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Guy Ritchie’s “Ungentlemanly Warfare” is based, kinda, on the true exploits of Britain’s Special Operations Executive (SOE) during World War II. Unsurprisingly, given Ritchie’s involvement, liberties have been taken with the **** SOE existed to operate behind enemy lines, committing sabotage and various other acts considered ungentlemanly by the upper crust officers who ran the conventional army. In 1942, England was starving and its army could not be resupplied because German U-boats owned the seas. With the blessing of Winston Churchill, the commander of the SOE sent a team to destroy the Duchessa d’Aosta, a supply ship that supplied all the carbon dioxide filters for the U-boats. These filters permitted these submarines to remain submerged for prolonged periods. By disabling the supply ship, the U-boat fleet would be effectively sidelined. The mission was labelled Operation Postmaster. It took place in January, 1942. This story centers on the real characters – Gus March-Phillips (Henry Cavill), Anders Larssen (Alan Ritchson) and Geoffrey Appleyard (Alex Pettyfer) – who were sent to complete this mission. In this film, some totally fictitious characters and other amalgamations of real-life participants also tagged along.“Ungentlemanly Warfare” contains all the satisfying flourishes of a film by Guy Ritchie (“Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels,” “Sherlock Holmes,” “The Gentlemen”). This film is cool and stylish. It’s filled with swaggering characters spouting cheeky dialogue. There are flashbacks to keep the moviegoer off-balance. There are first-rate set pieces/action scenes. Oh, and there’s violence – lots and lots of violence, most of it gratuitous. Did I mention the violence? The entire package is delivered with a manic gleefulness that’s contagious.While the story is “based on true events,” reality is just a jumping off point. This film suggests that a major role of the operation was to persuade an officially neutral US to enter the war and begin helping Britain. Pearl Harbor occurred the month before, so the US was already fully engaged. The film also suggests that by disabling the supply ship, the SOE’s mission could change the course of the war. While the events depicted in “Ungentlemanly Warfare” were not unimportant, a bigger factor was the development of RDX, an explosive powerful enough to sink the U-boats in the open **** film offers an interesting side note. One of the staffers for the SOE depicted in the film is a young officer named Ian Fleming (Freddie Fox). Yep, that Ian Fleming. His boss was known as M. In his James Bond novels, Fleming incorporates the character of M. Fleming has noted several times that the character of James Bond was based on Gus **** summarize, the cast here is charming and appealing, in no small part because they appear to be reveling in their madcap roles. Some of the location shots (much of the movie was filmed in Antalya, Turkey) make the film as worthwhile as a NatGeo documentary. The “true story” is a muddled mess. And there’s the violence, lots and lots of violence. (Historical note: no one was actually killed during Operation Postmaster, although one **** soldier fainted at the sight of the intruders.) Guy Ritchie’s energy and enthusiasm, which permeate this piece, will win over a lot of the folks in the seats.

Wade Allain-Marcus has directed the reboot of 1991’s “Don’t Tell Mom the Babysitter’s Dead.” It’s unclear why he **** the update, Tanya (Simone Joy Jones – fresh from “Bel Air,” another retread) is seventeen and the oldest of four siblings. After a meltdown at work, their mom is sent to a resort for some mandatory R&R. Sure. Happens all the time. The kids are left in the “care” of an elderly, pistol-wielding maniac who promptly passes away. Right. Rather than bothering their mom, the kids decide to dispose of the body and fend for themselves. Of course they do. With the help of her siblings, Tanya lies about her age, gins up a fake résumé and gets a job at a company specializing in fast fashion. Uh huh. Desultory observations about adulthood, responsibility and getting by financially dribble out after **** the original film, the lead role was played by Christina Applegate, an actual teenager, who was in the middle of an eleven-year run on “Married… With Children.” Her interactions with Joanna Cassidy, who played the owner of the fashion company, were the most redemptive elements of a film that was panned by the critics. A high-water mark was a critic labelling the film “amusing fluff.” (It got a 35 score on Metacritic.) Inexplicably, the reboot hews closely to this marginal original story. The only novel element in any of this is that the family at the center of the story is **** casting here is uneven. Jones, who plays Tanya, is twenty-five years old. She struggles to be convincing as a seventeen-year-old. However, her charm and effervescence give the film what little energy it’s able to generate. As the two youngest siblings, Ayaami Sledge and Carter Young are cute, cuddly, chatty and clever. On the other hand, portraying the role of the lead fashionista is Nicole Richie, who has made a career out of being the daughter of singer Lionel Richie and the sidekick of Paris Hilton. With practice, diligence and hard work, her acting could someday rise to abysmal. Today is not that day. She and some of the other cast members say their lines and then pause a beat, apparently hoping for a sitcom laugh track to bail them out. Help does not arrive.This is a film with limited aspirations that are underachieved.

“Monkey Man” is London-born Director/Co-writer/Star Dev Patel’s homage to his Indian heritage. It’s an earnest and thought-provoking, though uneven, directorial **** script centers on the mythic Hindu figure Hanuman, who embodies courage, strength and self-discipline. Patel’s character, simply known as the Kid, is the contemporary embodiment of these traits. The Kid is raised in an idyllic wooded area in India. But when the power elite decide they want this land for their own purposes, they send soldiers to burn down the village, killing the Kid’s mother in the process. After being forced into the slums of the city, the Kid makes money by wearing a rubber monkey mask to participate in bouts at an underground fight club. He makes more money when he bleeds. Eventually, the Kid manipulates his way into an upscale club frequented by the city’s elite. (The club is called “Kings,” just in case we missed the point.) What follows is the Kid’s meticulously thought-out, remorseless revenge. Think Liam Neeson, only young, ethnic, interesting and with fewer wrinkles.This film is clearly a passion project for Patel, who burst onto the scene when he starred in 2008’s “Slumdog Millionaire” and has had several major roles since (“The Green Knight,” “The Personal History of David Copperfield”). It’s a project that almost didn’t happen. Shooting was supposed to start just before COVID. After it was finally completed in 2021, the film was sold to Netflix, where it languished because of ongoing disputes about world-wide distribution rights. Eventually, Producer Jordan Peele (“Get Out,” “Nope”) bought the film and has released it in theaters around the country.Patel has used Indian actors in almost all the key roles throughout the film. The cast is excellent. It’s refreshing to see consistently powerful portrayals by actors many American audiences haven’t seen before.Although it’s fair to classify “Monkey Man” as an action flick, there are actually only two extended fight sequences in the film. Because of his slender physique, Patel is hardly the stereotypical action figure. As a result, Cinematographer Sharone Meir (“Whiplash”) relies on close-ups, quick cuts and frantic edits for the major violent encounters. While this technique makes some of the action look staged, the good news is that you won’t confuse this with a Jason Statham film: there’s no time wasted on manly brooding.What gives this film its emotional heft is the detailed context for the revenge-fueled violence at its core. The story takes great pains to demonstrate how the underclass is often invisible in Indian society. When the Kid explodes in violence, it’s because his is releasing a lifetime of humiliation and oppression. At times, you may feel like you’ve walked into an installment of John Wick or one of the more over-the-top scenes from “Kill Bill.” But here, the stakes feel higher.This leads, however, to the film’s problematic take on violence. In this story, there’s no ambivalence about beating the crap out of the bad guys (and much worse). The clear implication is that violence is sometimes justified and even inevitable. It’s unsettling, intentionally so.“Monkey Man” is not for the faint of heart. It’s a film that revels in its bare-knuckled intensity – both physical and emotional.

Writer/Director/Star Julio Torres’ “Problemista” is a concoction that’s equal parts surrealism, magical realism and outright whimsy. Born in El Salvador, Torres moved to New York City to attend The New School. He was a writer on “Saturday Night Live” from 2016-2019 and Creator/Writer/Star of HBO’s “Los Espookys” (2018-2022). Several members of the “Los Espookys” supporting cast appear in this film.Many elements of “Problemista” are autobiographical. Torres stars as Alejandro, a young man who has recently arrived in New York City from El Salvador. Alejandro aspires to work at Hasbro to create new, odd versions of Barbie and the Cabbage Patch Kids. While trying to secure his work visa, Alejandro is fired from his job at FreezeCorp, where he was overseeing the remains of the freeze-dried, err, cryogenically maintained, artist Bobby. Bobby’s widow Elizabeth takes on Alejandro as an unpaid assistant. Elizabeth will sponsor his visa application, so long as Alejandro helps her curate an exhibition of Bobby’s paintings. As the ever-present narrator, Isabella Rossellini (“Marcel the Shell with Shoes On”) provides the calm, thoughtful exposition that helps the moviegoer navigate this maze of odd events.Torres uses his platform to point out the insanity of the immigration system he endured. For example, Alejandro is required to submit a $6000 filing fee with his visa application even though it’s against the law for him to work in the US without, wait for it, acquiring a visa. Torres uses sand flowing through hourglasses to depict the plight of immigrants enmeshed in this Kafkaesque waiting process. When an hourglass runs out, it – and presumably the visa applicant – simply disappears. Throughout the film, Alejandro shuffles around on tiptoes, presumably terrified of doing anything to upset the delicately balanced craziness of his visa application or the surreal world he inhabits.There’s also some time spent sympathetically depicting what it’s like to be a gig worker trying to survive in NYC. Along the way, the New York art community takes a couple of well-deserved **** the role of Elizabeth, Tilda Swinton is likely to induce PTSD in any moviegoer who’s ever had an unreasonable boss. Elizabeth rails about service in restaurants and about service from Apple. For no apparent reason, she spends a lot of time obsessing about the virtues of Filemaker Pro (it’s a real thing), which Elizabeth believes is essential to properly organizing and curating her deceased husband’s paintings. Eggs are the subject all of Bobby’s paintings. His entire collection includes thirteen works. Elizabeth is labelled “the hydra” because she creates two additional problems every time she addresses an issue. She’s a total maniac, but she also believes in Alejandro, in her own demented way, and suggests he should take up for himself a little more. This is hardly a perfect film. The connections among the various scenes in the film can sometimes be tenuous. At points, Swinton’s character feels like fingernails on a blackboard. The surrealism regularly injected into the story will be off-putting for many (include me in that group). Even so, “Problemista” is an ambitious feature film debut for a writer/director well on his way to fully finding his voice.

Exploring the boundaries of film noir, “Love Lies Bleeding” is a grimy, bloody, hot, sweaty, pulse-pounding, sexy, gory mess. You should go see it **** 1989, Lou (Kristen Stewart – “Twilight” series, “Spencer”) is marking time managing a run-down gym in rural New Mexico. The first time we see her, she’s unclogging a toilet. Into her gym and her life walks Jackie (Katy O’Brian), a buff, seemingly confident woman on her way to a body-building competition in Las Vegas. When a guy at the gym hits on Jackie, she punches him in the face, hard. Lou is in love. It’s all an intriguing variation on the femme fatale and the macho stereotypes that typically populate this genre. (“Of all the gym joints in all the towns in the world, she walks into mine.”) Lou, it turns out, is the daughter of the local gangster (an excellent Ed Harris), who skirts the law, sells guns on the black market and generally runs the town with a pitiless, self-serving efficiency. Perhaps Jackie is Lou’s ticket out of this soul-crushing **** intentions, the execution and the action throughout this film are all first-rate. Director/Co-Writer Rose Glass (“Saint Maud”) dabbles in plenty of the tropes associated with film noir. But she also offers a refreshing new take in several areas. One of the powerful themes here is the overlapping nature of addiction, obsession and love. Lou offers Jackie her passion (and anabolic steroids). There’s also a clear intimation, particularly in the film’s final scene, that the only way to get what you really want is by being remorselessly ruthless. The script, co-written by Polish writer/director Weronika Tofilska, offers scenes that rival the Coen Brothers’ feature film debut “Blood Simple.” The score by Clint Mansell and cinematography from Ben Fodesman (a “Saint Maud” alum) add texture and atmosphere to the proceedings.While O’Brian is a powerful presence physically and emotionally, this is Kristen Stewart’s film. She conveys an edgy wariness and a pervasive skepticism that are heart-breaking. Her lingering glances at Jackie offer a window into her soul, while her skittish manner suggests a dog that’s been kicked one too many times. She’s mesmerizing.What doesn’t work for me is the surrealism Director Glass inserts in the final act. While she foreshadows these leaps into fantasy and her intentions are admirable, these scenes just don’t work. It’s a trifling criticism, important only because this leap into surrealism is a notable departure from the brash self-assurance that propels the film most of the time.This is not a film for the faint of heart. It’s a brutally unblinking assessment of human nature that is simultaneously exhilarating and profoundly depressing. It’s a cautionary tale about the price to be paid when seizing personal power.

At the 2022 Oscars, “Dune: Part One” received awards in six technical categories: Sound, Visual Effects, Production Design, Original Score, Film Editing and Cinematography. Director Denis Villeneuve (“Blade Runner 2049” and “Arrival,” as well as the first Dune installment) has gotten the old band back together. And the technical achievements in “Dune: Part Two” easily surpass those of the first installment. It’s the best reason currently available for seeing a movie on a really big screenThe script for “Part Two” feels very different from its predecessor. The first film burned a lot of time establishing key premises – a future world run by the Great Houses, the importance of “spice” in that culture, the role of the Bene Gesserit. “Part Two” cuts to the chase. Paul Atreides (Timothée Chalamet – “Wonka,” “Call Me by Your Name”) is the surviving heir to the House of Atreides. He bands with the desert-dwelling, nomadic Fremen to plot revenge against the House of Harkonnan, whose army killed almost all of the Atreides family and destroyed their world in “Part One.” Over time, Paul accepts the culture of the Fremen, many of whom see him as the Mahdi, a messianic figure sent to bring justice to the universe. Paul falls in love with Chani (Zendaya – “Euphoria,” “The Greatest Showman”), a Fremen. As the film progresses, he’s at war with himself over whether to pursue personal happiness or to fulfill his obligation to, you know, save the universe.I’ve read the original book and I saw “Dune: Part One” when it opened in 2022. So this is probably a good point to insert a disclaimer: I have no idea whether this story will make sense to the uninitiated. On the other hand, if you were willing to slog through “Game of Thrones,” I suspect you’re good to go.Because of the relatively streamlined story, Villeneuve and co-writer John Spaihts (“Dune: Part One”) have time to explore a lot of other themes. The most explicit is their warning about the risks of blind zealotry based on religious fundamentalism. The writers also consider whether cruelty and harshness are central to the human condition. They propose that a world’s inhabitants should adjust to its climate rather than trying to subjugate the world around them. They wonder whether responsible living always involves painful pragmatism. The cast is an embarrassment of riches. In addition to Chalamet and Zendaya, Rebecca Ferguson, Josh Brolin, Dave Bautista, Stellan Skarsgård and Charlotte Rampling reprise their original roles. Austin Butler, Christopher Walken, Florence Pugh and Leá Seydoux appear for the first time. The best of this supporting cast is Javier Bardem (“Skyfall,” “No Country for Old Men”), whose character Stilgar embodies the religious fervor that becomes the backbone of Paul’s power.What’s problematic, here and in Frank Herbert’s original novel, is the scenario of a white savior arriving to lead and redeem the dark-skinned, Arab-appearing Fremen. Significantly, this white messiah scenario has made the Dune book series favorite texts for the Proud Boys and other alt-right groups.“Dune: Part Two” is the most visually striking film to arrive so far this year. Think of “Oppenheimer” as a warm-up act.

The new action film “The Beekeeper” is certainly a B movie. Even so, I’m sure it will have Jason Statham fans swarming to the theaters. (I know! Sometimes, these reviews just write themselves.) In this film, Statham’s character, Adam Clay, is an unassuming beekeeper who carefully manages his hives and delivers honey to the neighbors. He rents a barn from Eloise (Phylicia Rashad), an older woman who is “the only person who’s ever taken care of me.” Eloise is bilked out of all her money, including over $2 million from a charity she runs, when hackers install malware on her computer. She becomes so distraught that she commits suicide. But wait! Clay is actually a former Beekeeper, a member of a clandestine, off-the-books government organization that exists to “protect the hive” (as we are reminded, repeatedly) when the government and the justice system fail. Clay initially shows his displeasure by blowing up the scammers’ building. Things escalate after that. The baddies in this endeavor are excellent at being jerks we love to hate. Wallace Westwyld (Jeremy Irons) is odious as an officious former director of the CIA who now protects the interests of these internet scammers. (Why a director of the CIA speaks with a British accent and wears elegant suits from Savile Row is never explained.) The leader of the operation is Derek Danforth (Josh Hutcherson), who rides a skateboard in the office, orders his beverages with “oat milk, of course” and richly deserves to be punched in the face or worse. In his campaign of revenge, Adam Clay opts for worse. And so it goes. What really doesn’t work in this film is the indiscriminate nature of the mayhem and violence. Once Clay feels aggrieved, he’s just as likely to kill an FBI or Secret Service agent as one of the bad guys. The fact that the script requires Clay to wax philosophical on multiple occasions about “protecting the hive” – presumably as a moral justification for his amorality – just makes things worse. At the end of the day, this is another workmanlike Jason Statham movie. So you are guaranteed a full portion of brooding manliness, skilled and realistic action sequences and delivery of dialogue with a British accent that makes it all seem a little more sophisticated. (In this case, he deserves a lifetime achievement award for delivering some truly appalling lines with a straight face.) Statham’s successful formula has spawned a long list of action series – The Mechanic, Transporter, The Expendables, The Meg – as well as a couple of very good films. If you haven’t seen 2015’s “Spy,” you should. Statham’s comic timing with Melissa McCarthy is just excellent. But back to the matter at hand. According to “Rotten Tomatoes,” “The Beekeeper” is #8 in its ranking of 44 Jason Statham films. But let’s not confuse it with a good film. In fact, let’s hope this beekeeper idea doesn’t cross-pollinate and create sequels. It’s a concept that’s already lost its sting.

“Anyone But You” is a tortured adaptation of Shakespeare’s “Much Ado About Nothing.” If there were truth in advertising, they’d have kept the original title. In this tale, Bea (Sydney Sweeney) meets Ben (Glen Powell) in a coffee shop. After an intense, but chaste, day and night together, each misinterprets the situation and assumes the other isn’t interested. Recriminations ensue. But wait! Bea’s sister is marrying Ben’s close friend. So they are thrown together at a destination wedding in Sydney. Banter, confusion and obligatory shots of the Sydney Opera House ensue. Why did Sony make this picture? If you’re looking for a snide comments from a bickering lead couple, a destination wedding, lush scenery at an exotic destination, frolicking in the ocean and a clichéd ending, check out 2022’s “Ticket to Paradise” with Julia Roberts and George Clooney. In comparison to “Anyone But You,” it’s Shakespearean. Despite a script that would have to be reworked and improved to be considered vapid, this could be a breakout role for Sydney Sweeney. After coming to prominence for playing a sullen teenager in Season One of “The White Lotus” and a young woman who makes consistently terrible decisions about men in “Euphoria,” she’s given a lot more to work with in this film. There are even opportunities to display some surprising skills at physical comedy. Glen Powell contributes a brooding manliness, washboard abs and an opportunity to demonstrate conclusively that he has no tan lines whatsoever. Then there’s the regular disrobing. The creative team describes their effort as “bawdy” and “sexy.” Kinda. I’ll go with “ludicrous.” What’s the solution to discovering a large spider on Ben? Have him remove all his clothes and throw them off a cliff. And when a wedding centerpiece is hit by exploding fireworks and catches fire? Of course you have an Australian model strip down to her underwear and beat the flames to death with her cocktail dress. Plausibility, nuance and subtlety are not descriptors that leap to mind. If you decide to attend this movie, despite my best efforts, make sure to stay for the closing credits. Apparently, the cast sang lyrics from Natasha Bedingfield’s “Unwritten” at the end of each day’s filming. The resulting montage at the end of the film is the most spontaneous, enthusiastic, fun and interesting segment of the film. In Director Will Gluck’s initial foray into rom-com territory, he introduced us to Emma Stone in a smart, well-acted film called “Easy A.” The film, based on “The Scarlet Letter’” was a thoughtfully crafted send-up of high school culture. Here, he’s regressed. “Anyone But You” just doesn’t make the grade.

Based on the 2001 Percival Everett novel “Erasure,” first-time feature Director Cord Jefferson’s “American Fiction” is the most fun I’ve had at the movies in a while. Thelonious “Monk” Ellison (Jeffrey Wright) is a beleaguered college professor. When he tries to introduce his literature class to Flannery O’Connor’s short story “The Artificial ****,” a white student leaves the class and files a complaint because she felt “unsafe” and “uncomfortable.” Monk is put on administrative leave. A published novelist, Monk’s latest work generates no interest because it’s “not black enough.” In frustration, Monk growls, “The blackest think about this [book] is the ink.” After attending a literary symposium where the novel “We’s Lives in Da Ghetto” receives rapturous attention, Monk dashes off “My Pafology,” a slapped-together appropriation of black stereotypes and ill-considered tropes using the pseudonym Stagg R. Lee. To his amazement, he receives a $750,000 advance for his book, along with $4 million for the movie rights. “American Fiction” is a biting satire about political correctness and about how we’re currently dealing with the racial divide in our country. The film takes particular aim at those who communicate about the black experience, not to offer truth or insight, but to cash in by pandering to a clueless white audience. Act One is the sharpest, funniest series of scenes I’ve seen this year. Setting up the initial premise and following its early consequences is movie bliss. Unfortunately, the wheels come off after that. The second act waffles, as Monk becomes enmeshed in family drama – his mother needs to go to a nursing home, his brother comes out as gay – that’s occasionally funny and sometimes poignant, but does little to support the main story line. In the third act, Director Jefferson, who also wrote the script, falters. He offers dream sequences and even creates scenes where Monk negotiates a series of alternative endings with the gung-ho movie producer. Clearly, he just can’t figure out how to land the plane. The cast here is consistently excellent. As Monk, Jeffrey Wright (TV’s “Westworld”) offers the finest performance of his career. For this role, he’ll likely be in the Best Actor conversation. Issa Rae (TV’s “Insecure”), as an opportunistic black novelist; Sterling K. Brown (TV’s “This Is Us”) as Monk’s brother Cliff; Erika Alexander (“Get Out,” TV’s “Bosch”) as Monk’s love interest; and 80-year-old Leslie Uggums as Monk’s mother are all a pleasure to watch. Monk’s scenes with his sister Lisa (Tracee Ellis Ross – TV’s “Black-ish”) are the highlight of the show, as the two display a bantering affection that doesn’t go on long enough. Don’t let the unevenness of this project deter you from seeing “American Fiction.” You’ll be rewarded with laugh-out-loud moments, with opportunities to smile in wry recognition and with situations where you’ll likely cringe in discomfort. If you feel unsafe or uncomfortable, just deal with it. “American Fiction” is a likely Best Picture nominee and one of the top ten films of the year.

Director Michael Mann is apparently taking a break from making films about cops and robbers and the tortured psyches that inhabit them both. This time, he shifts gears to craft a biopic about the tortured psyche of one of the most iconic names in auto racing. “Ferrari” centers on the summer of 1957. Enzo Ferrari has a business that’s teetering on the edge of bankruptcy because his passion is racing, not selling the expensive cars that might underwrite that passion. Ferrari’s marriage, already bankrupt, is disintegrating as Enzo and his wife grieve the loss of their son to muscular dystrophy the previous year. Things are complicated by Ferrari’s affair with another woman, with whom he has a young son. For Enzo, everything hinges on the results of the Mille Miglia, a one-thousand-mile race across Italy, in which he has entered five race cars. The last thirty minutes of this film include riveting footage from the race, including the harshly-lit nighttime scenes that are a hallmark of Mann’s directorial style. What this movie does best is convey the complexities of the life of Enzo Ferrari, a very public man trying to keep his private life from falling apart. In a special mass, the priest compares Enzo to Jesus. For many, the performance of the Ferrari racing team was a proxy for Italian national pride. Other than that, no pressure.Many components of this film are excellent. Mann’s direction, along with the script (Troy Kennedy Martin), the cinematography (Eric Messerschmidt) and the score (Daniel Pemberton) collude to create a palpable sense of dread that permeates almost everything. This tone makes even mundane domestic scenes feel all-important. The racing sequences are nearly **** it’s the performances by Adam Driver (as Enzo) and Penélope Cruz (as his wife, Laura) that are the centerpieces of this film. Driver pairs his imposing physical stature with a personality and style that make his character almost superhuman. His efforts to temper his ruthlessness in business as he strives for a sense of personal humanity make for fascinating viewing. Cruz offers a tour de force as the abandoned wife who is also the brains behind her husband’s business. Despite the best efforts of the costume and make-up artists, transforming Cruz into the frumpy discarded wife turns out to be impossible. Cruz’ mixture of grief, rage, sorrow and ruthless calculation creates the most mesmerizing scenes in the film. Both Driver and Cruz are certain to receive Oscar attention. Unfortunately, Shailene Woodley, as the mistress, is allowed to do little more than offer a calm counterpoint to Cruz’ pyrotechnics. “Ferrari” explores the complexities and contradictions of human nature. It’s a thoughtful story that shifts gears effortlessly. It deserves to be in the Best Picture conversation.

“Maestro” is a fascinating, but flawed, biopic about the life and work of composer/conductor Leonard Bernstein. In developing this project, Director/Co-Writer Bradley Cooper has created a film that’s even more ambitious than “A Star is Born,” his 2018 feature film debut that received eight Oscar nominations, including Best Picture. The arc of the story is a standard narrative format, broken up by a couple of flashbacks. After opening with a scene near the end of his life, the film goes back to November, 1943, and Bernstein’s conducting debut with the New York Philharmonic. The film then dutifully depicts many of the key events in Bernstein’s career: writing songs for the musicals “Candide” and “West Side Story;” conducting the New York Philharmonic and leading a performance of Mahler’s “Resurrection” in England’s Ely Cathedral in 1973; writing his “Mass” and other works; tutoring young musicians at Tanglewood. In documenting Bernstein’s professional life, it’s a paint-by-numbers, straightforward chronicling of **** ultimately, this is a film about Bernstein’s relationship with Felicia Montealegre, who was a young actress when they met in 1946. They married in 1951 and eventually had three children together. Bernstein and Felicia were fierce supporters of each other in their professional pursuits and intimate confidants out of the public eye. Played in perfect pitch by Carey Mulligan (“Saltburn,” “She Said,” TV’s “Collateral”), Felicia is sympathetically portrayed as passionate, clear-eyed and intelligent. Despite being Bernstein’s equal in many ways, she gave up many of her professional ambitions to be the stable center of their family and to support Bernstein’s artistic pursuits. While theirs was much more than a marriage of convenience, what was clearly problematic was Bernstein’s sexual relationships with men before and during their marriage and after Felicia’s death from breast cancer in 1978.Cooper’s preparation for this film was meticulous. He was in regular contact with Bernstein’s three children, who approved all the key elements of the film, including Cooper’s use of a prosthetic nose to create a striking facial similarity. Cooper also spent six years training with Yannick Nézet-Séguin in the art of conducting. The actual filming was equally well thought-out. For the three different time periods addressed during the film, Cooper uses the dominant filming technique of that day, changing from black and white (1940s) to color (1970s and late 1980s) while also modifying the aspect ratio (the size and shape of the image on the screen) to precisely fit the cinematic technique of that time period. Cooper also engagingly employs passages from several of Bernstein’s compositions to introduce key **** factors make “Maestro” less than it could have been. First, while the film is rigorous in its depiction of key events, the action takes place with no critical evaluation of Bernstein as a man. Second, Bernstein and his work are unnecessarily idealized in this script. The film implies that all of Bernstein’s compositions were well-received. However, “Candide” closed on Broadway after 72 performances. The New York Times described his “Mass” as “bloated, bombastic, cloying, quaint and smug.” Further, while there’s passing reference to his regular use of alcohol and drugs, the film offers no consideration of their impact on his life, personal or professional. Most significantly, other than a couple of scenes where Bernstein appears coldly detached, there’s no attempt to reconcile Bernstein’s ongoing relationships with men and his ongoing commitment to Felicia and their family. Finally, there’s not a syllable critiquing the fact that Bernstein’s conquests were consistently with younger men whose careers he could make or break.“Maestro” the film closely parallels its subject – passionate, sometimes compelling, consistently creative but clearly imperfect.

“Poor Things” is not the best picture of the year. But it’s definitely one of the weirdest, one of the most visually spectacular and one of the most fascinating. It’s difficult to discuss the storyline of this film without offering too many spoilers. Suffice it to say that the film is a unique retelling of the Frankenstein story. As the film opens, a reanimated Bella Baxter (Emma Stone) has the body of a woman and the mind and emotional temperament of a child. She even moves like a toddler who has just begun to experiment with walking upright. Early on, Bella leaves the safe confines of her home and goes out to experience the world. She discovers sex (she calls it “furious jumping”), which leads her to inquire, “Why do people not just do this all the time?” Self-discipline and self-control are not strong points. Describing her accelerating self-discovery, Bella says, “I am a changingable feast, as are all of we.” Throughout, Tony McNamara’s script sizzles, offering the moviegoer a feast of mangled malapropisms. The dialogue alone is worth the price of admission. But in this case, there’s none of the mean spiritedness found in “The Favorite,” McNamara’s previous collaboration with Director Yorgos Lanthimos.Lanthimos has garnered several international awards since he began doing English-language films in 2015. “The Lobster” (Oscar nomination for Best Original Screenplay), “The Killing of a Sacred Deer” (Palme d’Or at Cannes) and “The Favourite” (10 Oscar nominations) have all incorporated a pessimistic world view while offering compelling character development. This film is no **** world Bella begins to experience is colorful and vibrant. The story is set in a futuristic Victorian era that’s more than a little surreal. Robbie Ryan (Cinematography) and Zsuzsa Mihalek (Set Decoration), along with Shona Heath and James Price (Production Design), have worked with Lanthimos to create a world that dazzles. As Bella develops and matures, the film shifts from black and white to lush colors. Several scenes are shot using fisheye lenses and peepholes, offering a perspective that is as off-kilter as the other elements of the film. One of the more bizarre elements is the “mad scientist” animal creations developed by Simon Hughes and the visual effects team. They include a goose/bulldog (“gooseWillis”), a bulldog/goose (“barkWahlberg”) and a pig/chicken (“davidEggham”). **** dynamically developing characters is ultimately what Lanthimos is about. Emma Stone should be in the Best Actress conversation because of the range she demonstrates during Bella’s maturation. As Bella becomes more experienced in the world, her use of language improves, her gait becomes less hesitant and her confidence grows. Willem Dafoe (Dr. Godwin Baxter), Mark Ruffalo (the scoundrel Duncan Wedderburn) and comedian Ramy Yossef (Dr. Baxter’s assistant) all contribute **** the story progresses, Lanthimos’ themes become more pointed. We see unforgettable examples of the uncaring cruelty in the world. He takes particular time to dwell on the way men consistently seek to control women through financial manipulation, emotional abuse or simple physical coercion.“Poor Things” is an innovative film well worth your time. It’s a retro-futuristic period piece with a steampunk sensibility that makes Barbie World look conventional.

Director William Oldroyd has a real gift for spotlighting talented female actors. His feature film debut, 2016’s “Lady Macbeth,” introduced us to Florence Pugh. “Eileen” continues this trend, offering well-observed characters for New Zealand’s Thomasin McKenzie (“Last Night in Soho,” “Jojo Rabbit”) and for Anne Hathaway, who has been around since 2001’s “The Princess Diaries.”In 1964, Eileen (McKenzie) is living a dreary, drab existence working in a menial position in a boys’ prison. She lives in a dreary, drab undisclosed town in Massachusetts. Eileen cares for her alcoholic father (an excellent Shea Whigham), who vacillates between gun-waving belligerence and disinterested stupor. Into this tedium waltzes Rebecca (Hathaway), the new Harvard-educated prison counselor, who wears form-fitting suits, smokes extravagantly, goes toe to toe with boorish men and exudes a worldliness that makes Eileen swoon. When Rebecca turns her attention on Eileen, she feels truly seen for the first time in her life. Eileen also seems to serve as a mirror when Rebecca wants to stare at her own reflection.While Rebecca is the more vibrant personality, Eileen is the star of this show. What’s refreshing about Eileen as a character is that none of the usual tropes apply. As the film progresses, Eileen has no life-changing moments. She is never suddenly filled with self-awareness. There are no major epiphanies. She doesn’t try to break free of the shackles of the deadening society of which she is a part. Unfortunately, this is just a kind way of indicating that, while the moviegoer sees more facets of Eileen as the film progresses, nothing in the story changes her in any palpable **** factors sink this show. While there are startling story developments, these plot twists don’t lead anywhere. There’s no moral. There’s no larger point to be made. There’s no synthesizing principle. No metaphors in play. Second, the plot twists – and there are some whoppers – are completely unearned. There’s no foreshadowing. Nothing about what we know about these characters suggests any possibility of the events that transpire in Act Three. While some may be exhilarated by a huge leap or two, others (like me) just see it as lazy **** screenplay is written by Ottessa Moshfegh and her husband, Luke Goebel, based on Moshfegh’s 2015 novel. While the novel elegantly describes Eileen’s interior world, none of that inner richness makes it onto the **** the end of the day, “Eileen” is an interesting portrait of two very different women whose lives become intertwined. But it’s a character study where there’s no actual character development.

“Saltburn” is a remake of 1999’s “The Talented Mr. Ripley.” In Writer/Director Emerald Fennell’s retelling, the “hero” of her film is a truly nasty piece of work.Oliver Quick is a scholarship student at Oxford in 2006, not a **** character. He yearns to be noticed by the popular students, particularly Felix Catton, a young aristocrat. After Oliver contrives to meet Felix, the two strike up a friendship of sorts, based primarily on Felix’s pity for Oliver’s situation in life. When Oliver confides to Felix that his father has recently died, Felix insists that Oliver spend the summer at Saltburn, the family estate. Snide observations, assaults on class privilege and the occasional murder **** cast is first-rate. As Oliver, Barry Keoshan (“Dunkirk,” “The Banshees of Inisherin”) is compellingly creepy. Jacobi Elordi (“Euphoria”), in the role of Felix, is so sexy that he seems destined to cause heart palpitations among males, females and probably several species of marine mammals. As Lady Elspeth, Rosamund Pike (“Gone Girl”) explores new depths of superficiality, at one point observing, “I’ve never wanted to know anything.” Alison Oliver (“Conversations with Friends”) is riveting in a small but crucial role. Unfortunately, Richard E. Grant (“The Lesson”) has nothing substantial to do as lord of the manor. In fairness, he does wear armor to a dinner party.A crackling script further recommends this film. I was so enthralled by the quips and rapid-fire dialogue that I tracked down a copy of the script online. It’s even better than I thought – quick, stylish, smart.What offsets these strengths, and ultimately sinks this film, is the lack of substance in what Fennell has created. For a film that’s intended to be a takedown of wealth and privilege, the rich people in “Saltburn” are the easiest of targets. Fennell seems to think the upper class distinguishes itself by being more vacuous, more disconnected from the world around them and less self-aware than regular folk. Once the class warfare begins, it’s not even a fair fight.I came to resent the tone of self-satisfaction that permeates this piece. Fennell seems to believe she is an avant garde provocateur who has crafted a film both shocking and profound. But in the final analysis, there’s really nothing new here. If you want a dissection of class and privilege, go see Bong Joon Ho’s “Parasite” or TV’s “The White Lotus” (either season). Here, Fennell seems to have confused showy for shocking and self-indulgent for cutting-edge. The summary of events at the end of the film is redundant and unnecessary, apparently designed to underline Fennell’s genius and the assumption that her audience hasn’t been paying attention.This film is not nearly as clever as it thinks. Living up to its name, “Saltburn” is just a minor skin irritant.

“Dream Scenario” begins with the most interesting and innovative movie premise to come along recently. It’s based, apparently, on the This Man phenomenon. (For more, see ****.) Throughout the world, over 8000 people claim to have seen the same man (This Man) in their dreams, despite the fact that these people have never met one another. The drawings and other renderings of this person are eerily similar. The This Man phenomenon has been theorized to be everything from a Jungian archetype to proof of the existence of **** this film by Norwegian Writer/Director/Editor Kristoffer Borgli (“Sick of Myself”), This Man is Paul Matthews (Nicholas Cage), an evolutionary biologist who teaches (to no great effect) at Osler College and whose supreme ambition is to write a modestly well-received book about ants. For no apparent reason, Paul begins to appear in the dreams of friends and strangers alike. He’s soon recognized in public. Students want to take selfies with him. An ad agency is willing to help find a publisher for his unwritten book, while also helpfully suggesting that he become a pitchman for Sprite. He’s even invited to a much-coveted dinner party by a neighbor who had never previously acknowledged his existence. Through no efforts of his own, Paul Matthews has become **** in the third act, it all goes wrong. Dreams involving Paul become much darker, much more sinister. Dream Paul morphs into a malevolent character who frightens and harms people. People respond by ostracizing Paul in real life.This story forms a perfect context for Director Borgli to offer observations – both subtle and pointed – about the price of fame and also about the ridiculous nature of the current cancel culture. The story is at its best when it depicts people in restaurants or public events like school plays expecting Paul to exile himself simply because they “don’t feel comfortable.” It’s all quite poignant since nothing has actually happened to merit his being shunned.Nicholas Cage is fabulous as the character at the center of this maelstrom of adulation and hatred. While he channels some of the manic energy he exhibited in “The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent,” here he’s unobtrusive and self-effacing. The scene where he clumsily tries to oblige the fantasies of a young woman (an excellent Dylan Gelula – “The Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt”) is equal parts hilarious and cringe-worthy. Michael Cera as the ad agency executive and Julianne Nicholson (“I, Tonya,” “Mare of Easttown”) as Paul’s wife are also first rate.This film is seldom laugh-out-loud funny, but at several points it provides interesting observations and worthwhile food for thought. One weakness is that the film is more a series of vignettes than a story with narrative momentum. The film’s final scenes are glaringly out of step with what went before, in both tone and substance. “Dream Scenario” lives up to its name by offering a premise with lots of promise. And while some of the scenes soar, ultimately Writer/Director Borgli never figures out how to land the plane.

Alexander Payne’s films have always had a 1970s sensibility. “The Holdovers” is no exception. But like the ‘70s cigarette of choice, he’s come a long way, baby.“The Holdovers” is set in 1970. Five students at the Barton Academy prep school have nowhere to go for Christmas. The headmaster forces the resident faculty curmudgeon, Paul Hunham (Paul Giamatti – TV’s “Billions,” films “Sideways,” “American Splendor”), to remain on campus to supervise. When a parent arrives by helicopter and whisks away four of the students, only Hunham, cafeteria supervisor Mary Lamb (Da’Vine Joy Randolph) and one forlorn student, Angus (Dominic Sessa – feature film debut), remain. It’s at this point that the film really finds its footing. Mayhem, kindness and insights about the human condition **** of the strengths of this film is its embrace of the ‘70s time frame. The film opens with the old MPAA ratings card, accompanied by a scratchy soundtrack and opening credits that look at least 50 years old. The film is shot on 35mm film by Danish cinematographer Eigil Bryld (“In Bruges,” “The Last King of Scotland”) who is so skillful he is almost able to persuade moviegoers that corduroy sport coats were once a very solid fashion alternative.Giamatti, Randolph and Sessa are all excellent. Randolph is grieving the loss of her son in the Vietnam War. She conveys a world-weariness that’s both exhausting and endearing. Sessa is outstanding as a discarded adolescent whose mother has moved on with her life and chosen to leave him behind. Giamatti, as usual, is mesmerizing. He’s a perpetually irate teacher who at one point gets a student’s attention by screaming, “Listen, you hormonal vulgarian!” But there’s also a **** about his isolation and alienation. Midway through the film, he confides to Angus, “I find the world a bitter and complicated place. And it seems to feel the same about me.”But what ultimately elevates this film is the evolution of Director Payne’s world view. In his earliest films, “Citizen Ruth” (1996) and “Election” (1999), there is abundant comedy, but it’s often at the expense of the characters, who are consistently unappealing and always kept at emotional arm’s length. And there’s a strong vein of cynicism running through the storylines. With films like “About Schmidt” (2002) and “Sideways” (2004), Payne took a more balanced view of humanity. With “The Holdovers,” he uses an excellent script by David Hemingson (TV writer for “Don’t Shoot Me,” “Don’t Trust the B---- in Apartment 23”) to make his peace with the ideas that humans are complicated, that relationships are worth nurturing and that being truly known by another person may be worth the risks of humiliation and rejection. It’s a nuanced perspective that pays emotional dividends because it encourages the viewer to invest in these characters.Alexander Payne has indeed come a long way, baby. Against all odds, it seems that Payne may be a romantic at heart.

In “Killers of the Flower Moon,” Co-writer/Director Martin Scorsese has a lot to say. With the movie clocking in at three hours twenty-six minutes, he has plenty of time to say it. By the 1920’s, a mammoth oil deposit had been discovered on the land of the Osage Nation in Oklahoma. Because the tribe had the foresight to explicitly retain the mineral rights to its property, the Osage became the wealthiest people per capita in the country. One of the people who plotted to separate the Osage from their money was William King Hale. He was eventually linked to twenty-four murders of Osage people with headright claims (which entitled them to shares of the proceeds from the oil produced). Enmeshed in the plot was Hale’s nephew, Ernest Burkhart. After he returned from World War I in 1919, Burkhart became part of Hale’s plans to gain access to the oil claims by marrying Mollie Kyle. Over the next few years, Mollie’s sister Minnie and their mother died from “wasting disease,” later proven to be poisoning. Another sister, Anna, was shot to death. Her remaining sister, Reta, was killed when her home was dynamited. Eventually, Mollie went to Washington, DC, and met with President Coolidge to ask for help from the federal government. The federal initiative to track down the killers was the birth of J. Edgar Hoover’s FBI. This film is based on the non-fiction book by the same name, authored by David Grann.Scorsese relies on familiar and new faces to carry the story along. As “King” Hale, Robert De Niro almost makes us forget “The War with Grandpa,” “Dirty Grandpa,” and “Meet the ****.” Almost. As Ernest Burkhart, Leonardo DiCaprio helps the audience engage with a generally loathsome character. The revelation in this film is Lily Gladstone (TV’s “Billions,” the films “First Cow” and “Certain Women”). Her Mollie Kyle is wise, funny, strong and altogether **** those familiar with Scorsese’s themes, the film’s emphasis on corruption, graphic violence and evil will be unsurprising. To demonstrate further how these themes appear repeatedly in American history, he introduces film clips from the Tulsa massacre and has the KKK marching in a local parade without hoods over their faces, demonstrating that the Klan was a fully embedded part of local culture. Scorsese also suggests strongly that the genesis of wealth inequality is the subjugation of the powerless. In his view, for a few to have more, many have to become “less than.”Despite its many positive attributes, the film is not flawless. The first two acts are slow and uneven, at times feeling bloated and self-indulgent. It’s only when the Bureau of Investigation arrives halfway through that the film maintains consistent pacing. Scorsese’s focus on Ernest and Mollie also is questionable. Ernest is either corruptly manipulative himself or so unintelligent that he’s easily bent to his uncle’s machinations. Either way, he’s an unappealing character. And while Mollie is feisty, smart, fascinating and well worth our attention, her poor health throughout most of the film (poisoning can do that) makes her character less than it could have been.“Killers of the Flower Moon” is a cautionary tale well-told. But one wishes it had shown a little more self-discipline (editing, anyone?) along the way.

Leave it to the French. Only they would decide to give their top award (the Palme d’Or at the Cannes Film Festival) to a French film that takes two and a half hours to suggest that families and relationships can be confusing and ambiguous. Sacré **** the film, Sandra (Sandra Hüller – “Toni Erdmann”) is a successful writer who often draws inspiration from real-life events. Her husband Samuel is a wannabe novelist. Samuel is a part-time home restorer, part-time teacher and full-time complainer. Early on, he topples to his death from the top window of their chalet in the French Alps. Was it suicide? Was he pushed? Eventually, the authorities charge Sandra based on the “suspicious circumstances” of his death. Act One is a real grind, although it serviceably introduces us to Sandra and her eleven-year-old son Daniel (an excellent Milo Machado Graner) who became visually impaired after being hit by a motorcycle (plenty of parental recriminations to go around on that one). Samuel, the husband, is a distant cipher. Halfway through the film, a flashback brings the relationship between Sandra and Samuel into focus while also providing much-needed momentum for the story. The final act centers on Sandra’s **** acting here is uniformly first-rate. Hüller is Oscar-worthy, as she compellingly depicts the ups and downs of the relationship with her husband while simultaneously displaying unalloyed love for her son. Machado Graner embodies the confusion and the terror of a child caught between warring parents. Swann Arlaud is excellent as Sandra’s lawyer, occasionally serving as a one-man Greek chorus interpreting key events.Director Justine Triet, who co-wrote the script with her partner Arthur Harari, has suggested in interviews that true-crime movies and TV series were a source of inspiration. However, Triet has studiously veered away from the habit of the true-crime genre to shape the narrative in order to persuade the viewer to a particular point of view. In truth, “Anatomy” is frustratingly non-committal, apparently finding it sufficient to demonstrate that as humans, we’re all a complicated mixture of positive attributes, personal failings and blind spots. In Sandra’s case there’s some arrogance and hubris thrown in for good measure. Given Triet’s observant, meticulous approach to character development, it’s curious that she’s much less attentive to generating momentum for the main story. For some reason, the creative team chooses to rely repeatedly on feints and misdirection to keep the audience engaged. Ultimately, “Anatomy of a Fall” is an excellent character study, but the story incorporates enough red herrings to start a fish farm.

After filming commercials for fifteen years, Australian Director Craig Gillespie’s first major feature film was 2007’s “Lars and the Real Girl,” one of my top five films all-time. In it, Gillespie demonstrated his ability to craft stories that are sentimental and heart-felt, but with a real touch of crazy. Ten years later, “I, Tonya” solidified his position as a purveyor of thoughtful insanity. “Dumb Money” continues this tradition.Based on the script by Lauren Schuker Blum and Rebecca Angelo (both alums of “Orange Is the New Black”), “Dumb Money” chronicles the true story of Keith Gill, a financial analyst who sunk his $50k life savings into GameStop (yep, the brick-and-mortar video game stores). Posting on Reddit’s r/wallstreetbets as Roaring Kitty, Gill’s earnest, funny videos encourage a committed group of retail investors to sink their money into the stock, too. In January, 2021, the stock rose from $4.34 to $485. Along the way, the stock’s irrational rise destroyed a couple of hedge funds that had been short-selling (using options trading to bet GameStop would go down – when the stock instead went up, Wall Street traders ultimately lost $20 billion).While this saga can be characterized David vs. Goliath, the story here is a lot more nuanced, complicated and interesting than that. It’s a story about the power of the internet to galvanize group action. It’s a compelling saga about the ability of regular people to create wealth and, at least temporarily, grab a small piece of the American dream. When the inevitable congressional hearings start, the film uses actual footage to demonstrate legislators’ inability to understand the online universe, much less regulate it. (While it’s not quite Sen. Ted Stevens’ 2009 immortal quote that the internet is a “series of tubes,” it’s close.) Most of all, the filmmakers are shrewd enough to highlight that all this takes place during the isolation caused by COVID, where online community, no matter the topic, represented salvation for **** all-star cast helps this film move along briskly. In addition to Paul Dano as Keith Gill and Pete Davidson as his stoner brother, America Ferrera, Shailene Woodley and others effectively portray the regular people caught up in the story. Seth Rogan, Sebastian Stan, Vincent D’Onofrio and Nick Offerman do the heavy lifting as hiss-worthy Wall Street professionals. Actual clips of Jim Cramer, federal regulators and members of Congress effectively document their ongoing witlessness.“Dumb Money” sidesteps several potential pitfalls. It avoids painting the good guys and the bad guys too broadly. And it effectively captures the passion and the irrational zeal of the retail investors willing to spend their own money just to cause real pain for the hedge funds. And “Dumb Money” explains a lot of investing concepts with simple clarity, all without requiring Margot Robbie to sit in a bubble bath explaining sub-prime mortgages (that’s right, “The Big Short”).

[SPOILER ALERT: This review contains spoilers.]

“Theater Camp” is basically Ben Platt (Tony Award for “Dear Evan Hansen”) getting together with three close friends to create an improvised homage to musical theater. The friends in question are Writer/Director/Star Molly Gordon (“Booksmart,” TV’s “The Bear”) who met Platt in a theater program at age 3; Writer/Director Nick Lieberman, who performed in musicals with Platt in high school; and Writer/Star Noah Galvin (TV’s “The Good Doctor”), Platt’s successor on “Dear Evan Hansen” and now his fiancé. Before completing this full-length film, the quartet wrote a scriptment (somewhere between a general story treatment and an actual script) and did a proof-of-concept short **** story is rickety. The pacing of this film is uneven. Some sections are unforgivably slow. But if you hang in, you’ll likely appreciate the show’s kindness and heart. Amos (Platt) and Rebecca-Diane (Gordon) are unsuccessful actors who are transformed into stars each year when they arrive to teach young students at a summer theater camp called AdirondACTS. Unfortunately, Joan (Amy Sedaris), the owner of the camp, was sent into a coma by the strobe lights at a student production of “Bye Bye Birdie.” Keeping the camp solvent and out of the hands of the neighboring camp run by a hedge fund falls to Joan’s son, Troy, a bro-dude who constantly introduces himself as an en-Troy-preneur. After the young campers audition for the various musicals being produced this summer – including “The Crucible Jr.” and the original musical written by Amos and Rebecca-Diane in honor of the camp founder, “Joan, Still” – the storyline heads toward the most moth-eaten cliché possible: will the public performance of “Joan, Still” attract new investors and save the camp? Clearly, there’s a lot of Christopher Guest’s “Waiting for Guffman” wandering around here.What’s fascinating about this piece is its consistent reliance on the improvisational skills of kids. But they really deliver. There are the “Fosse kids” who spend their spare time snapping their fingers. There’s the ten-year-old who decides her audition number will be “I Dreamed a Dream” from “Les Mis,” which allows Amos to remark, “That’s a good song choice. I totally believe her as a French prostitute.” Clearly, it helps if moviegoers are musical theater fans themselves, but it’s not required to appreciate watching kids live out their dreams.This film is a mockumentary filmed in a gritty cinéma vérité style that perfectly fits the content. While there may be some mockery of musical theater tropes, there’s no condescension directed at the kids in this production. These kids are charmingly self-absorbed. They are zealously over the top. But they also realize they are misfits who have once chance each year to be with their kindred spirits. Their boundless enthusiasm is ****’s the guileless kindness of this enterprise that will ultimately win you over. You probably won’t leave the theater humming any show tunes, but you may leave with a smile on your face and a sense of validation if you’ve ever felt awkward, left out or marginalized. In other words, it’s actually a film for everybody.

“The Lost King” is based on true events. The king in question is Richard III, who ruled England from 1483-1485. What’s lost are his corporeal remains. The consensus among historians was that his body was gone forever, thrown into a river after he was killed in the Battle of Bosworth. Philippa Langley disagreed.Philippa (Sally Hawkins in another Oscar-worthy role) is easy to dismiss. She is small in stature, quiet, unassuming and has no formal training in history or archaeology. She has an ex-husband, two sons, a debilitating chronic illness and an unfulfilling job with a marketing company in Edinburgh. One evening, she takes one of her sons to see Shakespeare’s “Richard III” and finds the character (and perhaps the actor) captivating. The king begins to appear to her as an apparition. Feeling affinity for this historic figure who was disparaged by Shakespeare as a usurper, a murderer and a hunchback, Langley joins The Richard III Society [Edinburgh Branch]. After extensive reading and research, she becomes convinced that the king’s body can be found. She crowdsources funding for an archeological dig at the most likely location.Langley’s book “The Search for Richard III” chronicles these and subsequent events. Writers Steve Coogan (who plays Philippa’s ex in the film) and Jeff Pope, along with Director Stephen Frears (“Philomena”), have used this source material to craft a thoughtful, sweet, compelling narrative. At its core, this is a story about an ordinary person who rouses herself to do the extraordinary, finally finding a purpose in life in the process. This film is in many ways a testament to hard work and tenacity, leavened by Philippa’s stubborn unwillingness to accept conventional wisdom. She shows unyielding but polite determination as she encounters skepticism, rejection and condescension while marching toward her **** film also confirms that the winners get to write history. The House of Tudor began its reign over England because of its success in the Battle of Bosworth, which ended the dynasty of the House of York. Unsurprisingly, the Tudors chose to portray the vanquished and now terminally dead Richard III in the worst possible light. The truth, finally acknowledged by the royal family because of Philippa’s efforts, is that Richard III was a legitimate heir to the throne. Also, his skeleton reveals he was not a disfigured hunchback, but a man with a case of scoliosis. There are a couple of missteps in the plotting. The regular appearances of Richard III in full regalia offer a tone of whimsy, while doing little to add momentum to the narrative. And the film has created controversy by going out of its way to disparage the University of Leicester, which admittedly stole the spotlight, marginalized Philippa and diminished her role in a project she initiated. These digressions are unfortunate. This story of a quirky, remarkable woman’s fight to find her voice, by itself, is quite sufficient.

In her first feature film, Director Alice Troughton (TV’s “Tin Star,” “Doctor Who”) explores the boundaries of film noir. Some of her innovations are quite successful, others not so **** the opening scene, Liam (Daryl McCormack – TV’s “Peaky Blinders”) is being interviewed about his debut novel. The film then flashes back to Liam arriving at the home of writer JM Sinclair (Richard Grant). While working on his own novel, Liam has agreed to tutor Bertie, Sinclair’s son, as Bertie prepares for the entrance exams at Oxford. (Having fully mastered entitlement and condescension, it seems Bertie is already fully equipped to enter those hallowed halls.) Liam moves in to the family mansion. But wait: it turns out Liam wrote his college thesis on the writings of Sinclair. While in residence, Liam is writing post-it notes about what he observes. Meanwhile, Sinclair is experiencing writer’s block so severe that some of his fans wonder if he has retired. Sinclair apparently is creatively paralyzed because of the drowning death of his other son, Felix. The game is afoot, Watson. This film contains many of the hallmarks of a classic film noir. It’s moody. It’s world-weary. It has a dark view of human nature. It uses a dark color palette. But the proceedings here feel a little ponderous. There are regular, lingering shots of the pond where Felix drowned. (We got it the first time.) There are regular, ongoing indications of tension among all three members of the Sinclair family. These tensions escalate predictably. So do nearly all of the plot twists.Some of the plot developments strain credulity. In this huge mansion, does Liam really need to be assigned the bedroom of the dead son, particularly when this room provides a perfect vantage point for spying on the elder Sinclairs’ bedroom? Why doesn’t Liam run screaming away from this wildly dysfunctional family at first opportunity? It’s the cast that holds this rickety storyline together. It would be easy to dismiss a character as consistently self-absorbed and imperious as JM Sinclair. But in the role, Richard Grant occasionally offers a laugh and twinkle in his eye that keep him from becoming the cardboard cutout of a villain. Meanwhile, as Sinclair’s art curator wife Hélène, Julie Delpy offers arched eyebrows or condescending glares that communicate more than paragraphs of exposition. Delpy’s Hélène is strong and observant, fully capable of going toe to toe with her famous husband.Ultimately, the fine performances of the cast are overwhelmed by a plot that’s predictable and, occasionally, a little pretentious.

As a writer/director, Christopher Nolan captured attention from his first film “Following” (1998), a spare neo-noir thriller, through his contribution to the Batman canon with the Dark Knight trilogy, to innovative mindbenders like “Inception” and “Tenet” and even historical epics like “Dunkirk.” “Oppenheimer” may be Nolan’s best film to date.This film is the biography of J. Robert Oppenheimer, “the father of the atomic bomb.” But rather than focusing solely on Oppenheimer’s time as Director of the Manhattan Project, Nolan offers a sweeping epic of Oppenheimer’s career, from his early years in academia and left-leaning political circles, through his time directing the efforts to develop the bomb at Los Alamos, to his eventual undoing during the Cold War at the hands of a bureaucrat who was embarrassed by Oppenheimer at a Congressional hearing years before. In telling this sweeping story, Nolan uses his typical non-linear approach. (If fairness, he does employ black-and-white flashbacks to give the audience a fighting chance at keeping up.)In his script, Nolan invokes a wide range of historical figures – President Harry Truman, scientists Albert Einstein, Werner Heisenberg (go see the play “Copenhagen”), Enrico Fermi. But the film is at its best when it explores the genius and the foibles of its title character (a rail-thin Cillian Murphy – TV’s “Peaky Blinders”). Robert Oppenheimer singlehandedly transformed theoretical physics in the US. But he also had the leadership skills to effectively manage a group of egotistical world-class scientists at Los Alamos. Perhaps most important, Oppenheimer had the prescience to understand and lobby against the nuclear arms race he knew his accomplishment would unleash. But Oppenheimer was also a voracious womanizer, painfully naïve about the political consequences of advocating for left-wing causes in the era of Joe McCarthy, irrationally and randomly stubborn and intentionally defenseless when facing a sinister bureaucratic machine. Nolan addresses this complexity without criticism or **** convey this story, Nolan relies on much more than his screenplay. The excellent score by Ludwig Göransson (Oscar for “Black Panther,” Emmy for “The Mandalorian”) regularly employs a disconcerting rumbling noise to denote impending personal disaster as well as the beginning of an atomic reaction. Cinematographer Hoyte Van Hoytema (“Nope,” Nolan’s “Tenet,” “Interstellar” and “Dunkirk”) creates visual imagery that, while metaphorical, is perhaps more impactful than viewing actual footage of an atomic reaction. The use, and the elimination, of sound during the first atomic test is unexpected and inspired. Finally, Nolan’s quick cuts and energetic editing create an uneasy sense of cohesion.Nolan uses “Oppenheimer” to do much more than detail the development of the hydrogen bomb. He does more than effectively convey the full complexity of one of the most important figures of the twentieth century. From my perspective, Nolan uses his narrative to make some significant, sobering comments about power. He makes a compelling case that, while individuals and mankind are inescapably drawn to creating and using ultimate power, the arrogance and the singlemindedness of this pursuit simultaneously sow the seeds of our future destruction.“Oppenheimer” offers visuals that I’m still replaying in my head. It conveys ideas that I’m thinking about days after seeing the film. Christopher Nolan’s latest effort may be the most technically complete film that I’ve seen in the past several years. It’s refreshing to see a powerful story and this level of cinematic sophistication in service of something other than a set of comic book characters.

“Of An Age” is the story of a burgeoning relationship between two men, but it’s not an in-your-face political statement about gay relationships. In fact, because of the film’s intense focus on that moment of total infatuation where only two people exist in the world, gender is almost incidental.Macedonian-born Aussie Writer/Director Goren Stolevski’s second film centers on a single day in 1999 when Adam (Thom Green) and Kol (Elias Anton) meet. Kol receives a frantic call from his ballroom dance partner Ebony. She’s slept off the consequences of a long night on an unknown beach. The only way Kol can retrieve her and make the Dance Finals is to beg Ebony’s brother, Adam, for a ride. While traveling in a car together, Kol and Adam start with banter and a tentative discussion of literature and philosophy. But the conversation and the sense of connection quickly turn into something much deeper.Adam and Kol are both charismatic and appealing. Anton is an awkward seventeen, enthralled by the mature man who’s at least four years older and much more worldly-wise. While Kol is still struggling with defining himself in a conservative household of Macedonian emigrants, Adam seems to have it all figured out. In fact, Adam is leaving the next day to begin his graduate studies in South America. So theirs is a relationship killed by circumstance before it can ever develop.A brief Act Two reintroduces the two characters in 2010 at Ebony’s wedding. It’s a powerful postscript to their earlier encounter. While incidentally noting that the world has changed dramatically in the intervening eleven years, there’s a painful **** shared by Kol and Adam that’s simply heartbreaking.Cinematographer Matthew Chuang (“Blue Bayou”) uses an in-your-face camera technique that inserts us into the thoughts and feelings of these appealing characters. At times, however, the sense of intimacy and immediacy feels almost claustrophobic.What’s missing here is actual character development. While the sense of connection between Adam and Kol is extremely powerful, the story suffers because they are such obvious stereotypes. Adam is older, wiser and more jaded. In many ways, we understand Kol solely in terms of his confusion, awkwardness and naiveté. This reduces the emotional impact of the film, though only **** the end of the day, this is a film with universal appeal. Everyone will recognize the tension, exhilaration and obsession of first love. Some will leave the theater grieving that they did not end up with the love of their lives. The rest of us will walk away with an even deeper appreciation for what we have.

“Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One” is a film nearly as massive as its title, with a running time of 2:43. The good news is that Writer/Director Christopher McQuarrie, who directed the two previous MI installments, makes the time fly by. As the film opens, the Sevastapol, a next-generation Russian submarine, is tricked into shooting a torpedo at a target that suddenly disappears. The torpedo is then redeployed by mysterious forces to turn back and sink the sub. (After that, the plot gets less plausible.) The culprit is a sentient artificial intelligence called The Entity that has infiltrated all the important digital systems in the world. The mission of Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise), should he decide to accept it, is to find two interlocking keys that can shut down this rogue AI. The fate of the world hangs in the balance. Later, oh, forget it. If you require a plausible storyline or a plot that offers profound insights into the human condition, this isn’t the film for **** if you’re interested in derring-do in exotic locales – the desert of Saudi Arabia, Abu Dhabi International Airport, Rome, Venice, a train ride on The Orient Express – stick around. The set pieces (action sequences) in these settings are well worth the price of ****’s also fun to see the continuity of characters here. Luther (Ving Rhames) has appeared in all seven MI installments. Benji (Simon Pegg) has been in five. Isla Faust (Rebecca Ferguson) and The White Widow (Vanessa Kirby) are other important recurring roles. The major new addition is Grace (Hayley Atwell), a minor criminal who soon becomes aligned with Ethan’s save-the-world crusade.This MI installment has merit because it doesn’t focus exclusively on action and mayhem. Along the way, the film gives us a little backstory, explaining some of the factors that have made Ethan Hunt who he is. There are some explicit references to the first Mission Impossible film directed by Brian De Palma in 1996. It’s also fascinating that the film addresses very pertinent topics, not least the potential threat posed by AI, even though shooting for the movie concluded almost two years **** mostly, “Dead Reckoning” is a great excuse to sit back and enjoy a well-orchestrated action film. Despite his 61 years, Cruise battles the bad guys in the middle of a sandstorm. He drives a tiny car down narrow streets and several flights of steps (think Roger Moore’s James Bond in “For Your Eyes Only”). For good measure, he drives a motorcycle off a cliff at high speed (before deploying his parachute). It’s all great fun. And the close-ups during all this action allow each audience member to make an independent assessment of how much work has been done on Cruise’s face.Bottom line, “Dead Reckoning” offers an excellent reason to head to the movies: almost three hours of fast-moving, entertaining, nearly mindless escapism. Go see it on the biggest screen you can find.

“Missing” involves the same creative team (and essentially the same plot) as 2018’s “Searching.” One can only hope that the next installment in this anthology series will be “Ceasing” or “Desisting.”The film is best described as a “techno-thriller” or a “screenlife thriller.” Everything the moviegoer sees is on a computer screen. We get images of the lead character because her FaceTime app is always open for no apparent reason. When action takes place, we observe through security feeds or online streaming. The implication is that a computer screen and a phone are apparently all we need to deal with real life. It’s an observation offered with no apparent irony. High school student June (an excellent Storm Reid – TV’s “Euphoria”) is being left at home alone while her mom Grace (Nia Long) heads off on a getaway with her boyfriend. On the day of Grace’s expected return, June goes to the airport but Grace is, wait for it, missing. The game is afoot, Watson. Sacre bleu. June leaps into action to rescue her mom. Well, her fingers leap into action. She almost immediately hacks all of Grace’s online accounts. She discovers that Grace’s new boyfriend is an ex-con. June uses an app to hire Javi (Joaquim de Almeida), a gig worker who tries to discover what happened to Grace after she arrived in Cartagena. But wait, Grace was never there. The boyfriend hired a look-alike to stand in for Grace. Huh? After that, the storyline lurches from implausible to ridiculous to **** fairness, there are a couple of redeeming features here. Storm Reid is compelling as a smart, self-aware, sassy teenager. (Minutes after her mom’s departure, she googles “how to throw a rager on a budget.”) Joaquim de Almeida, a veteran actor with 149 screen credits, is charming and appealing as a diligent worker, a thoughtful sounding board for June and a consistent source of comfort and support. (It makes you wonder why he works so cheap and is only rated 2.5 stars.) The story takes a couple of swipes at the credibility of social media. Noting the corrosive effects of watching self-appointed experts on self-produced podcasts breathlessly promoting fact-free opinions to get a few more views and likes is hardly a ground-breaking observation. However, there is the suggestion, offered mildly and with understated tact, that cultivating an online presence might in some cases be less important than interacting with other humans IRL (in real life).Finally, this screen-only approach to cinematography completely ignores the unique value of, you know, going to a theater. Turns out, some people attend movies in person to see high-quality images on a big screen. Here, we get to watch intentionally grainy footage to prove that all this is happening on a laptop. For me, the allure of “screenlife” wore off pretty fast. Watching June download apps and perform computer tasks got tedious early on. But your experience may vary. Full disclosure: this review was written on a computer that uses Windows 7.

I harbored modest hopes for “Meg 2.” When I saw the movie trailer, Heart’s 1977 hit “Barracuda” was blaring in the background. Clever. The movie poster featured the mouth **** creature, jaws open wide, preparing to devour a puppy. The tag line was “New Meg. Old Chum.” Who could possibly resist?Sitting through the film was torture. At one point, a character says, “I just hope it goes better than last time.” As if. From where I sat, the differences between the original film and this sequel were excremental.According to 2018’s “The Meg,” megalodons are 75-foot sharks who live in the deepest recesses of the ocean. Incapable of leaving well enough alone, Jonas Taylor (Jason Statham) and his crew decide to explore the ocean floor and learn more about these creatures. Just in case the giant sharks weren’t enough, the team also discovers a clandestine undersea mining operation. In a stunning development, this operation is managed by ruthless, money-driven corporate types who, wait for it, don’t care deeply about the ecosystem they are destroying. But wait, there’s more! The undersea mining operation’s explosions have ripped a hole in the thermocline, a temperature barrier that has served to separate the apex predator megalodons from helpless people and puppies. Will Jonas and his crew survive the evil machinations of the mining company? Will the megalodons surface to ravage the nearby tropical paradise of Fun Island (really)? Are these rhetorical questions? Director Ben Wheatley (“Free Fire,” “Kill List,” “Sightseers”) has previously shown considerable skill and creativity in the action/horror genres by leavening the proceedings with welcome comedy and droll satire. Unfortunately, the writers here, who will remain unnamed in case they agree to enter witness protection, have slapped together an atonal script that consolidates their worst instincts while stealing liberally from “Jaws” and even “Aliens,” “The Abyss” and “Jurassic Park.”To give credit where it’s due, some of the CGI here is impressive. The long shots of the ocean floor are gorgeous. When the animal mayhem revs up, it’s all captured compellingly. And to demonstrate that nothing exceeds like excess, there’s a shot of swimmers being devoured from a point of view inside the meg’s mouth.What’s mystifying about all this is the tone. While Act Three is funny, energetic, self-deprecating and seems fully in on the joke, getting to that point is a slog through action, exposition and tedious posturing that’s just boring. Only the most committed devotees will find it sufficient to revel in Jason Statham brooding stoically, and yet so manfully, for the first hour of the film.This film defies the laws of physics, key principles of evolution, tenets of basic common sense and boundaries of human decency. On the plus side, we get to see Jason Statham on a jet ski literally jumping a shark. And they say there’s no poetic justice.

“John Wick: Chapter 4” is a frustrating mix of action-film excellence and self-indulgent tedium. With a running time of 169 minutes, the moviegoer has plenty of time to thoroughly experience both **** secure his freedom from the High Table, assassin John Wick (Keanu Reeves) must kill its leader, the Marquis (Bill Skarsgård). His quest takes him from New York to Osaka to Berlin, before events come to a head in Paris. Along the way, we encounter some familiar characters from earlier installments: the Bowery King (Laurence Fishburne), New York hotelier Winston (Ian McShane in full preening mode) and, ****, Charon (Lance **** – “The Wire,” “Bosch” – in his last on-screen **** action scenes here are simply amazing. As Caine, Chinese action star Donnie Yen (“Ip Man” series) steals every scene he’s in. To supplement the individual excellence of Yen and others, Director Chad Stahenski (who directed the earlier Wick installments) and Danish Director of Photography Dan Laustsen (“The Shape of Water”) have crafted some of the most elaborate action scenes ever created. The long overhead shot in the abandoned building; the segment involving cars, people and bullets racing around the Arc de Triomphe; and the sequence of Wick navigating the 222 steps to the Basilica at Sacré Coeur may well set a new standard for action set pieces. The balletic elegance and tight choreography are outstanding.There’s also plenty to criticize about this film. The bloated running time reflects lack of editorial discipline more than dramatic necessity. The film also often digresses into its own mythology in a way that’s as distracting as it is unnecessary. This need to reference the origin story and burnish its myths is completely unnecessary since there’s no seminal novel, Marvel comic book or any other source material that might require it. Finally, there’s no acknowledgement that Keanu Reeves is 58 years old. Wick is maimed so often in so many creative ways that I found myself flashing back to Monty Python’s “Spamalot,” where the Black Knight, having lost all his limbs, says “It’s a flesh wound… Come back here. I’ll bite your legs off.” One can only hope Reeves’ stoically heroic efforts ultimately are rewarded with a nice appearance in a commercial for trauma-induced **** John Wick franchise has been groundbreaking in many ways. The action sequences have been consistently excellent. It’s introduced bullet-proof suits. (Can you imagine the thread count?) And it’s offered several memorable, self-deprecating quotes. If this is the conclusion, it would be nice to summarize John Wick with an observation by Winston, manager of the New York Continental hotel: “[Wick] has a $14 million dollar bounty on his head, and every interested party in the city wants a piece of it. I’d say the odds are about even.”

Only two publications by Emily Brontё exist. Her poetry appeared in a single volume, “Poems by Currer, Ellis and Acton Bell,” (1846) pseudonyms for Charlotte, Emily and Anne Brontё. The sisters spent £50 to publish the collection and sold two copies. Emily’s only novel, “Wuthering Heights,” (1847) is a story of hatred, anger, violence and revenge, all driven by unrequited love. It was despised by contemporary critics, who called it immoral, uncivilized and even animalistic. Today, the book is consistently regarded as one of the most important works in the English language.Even less is known about Emily Brontё at a personal level. She was suspicious of people outside her immediate family. She rarely left home. It has been reported that she would hide behind doors or under tables when visitors arrived at her home. Unlike her sister Charlotte, she left behind no meaningful correspondence. She died at age 30 from tuberculosis.Given the lack of source material, first-time Writer/Director Frances O’Connor essentially started with a blank canvas. Rather than exhibiting the public timidity of her subject, O’Connor swings for the fences. Early on, the director informs the audience that there will be little reverence for facts. In Act One, Emily receives three copies of “Wuthering Heights” with her name on the spine. In that time, female authors always used pseudonyms. So we are forewarned that this film will offer its own interpretation of **** screenplay embraces Emily’s strangeness and her discomfort with the world around her. As her brother Branwell says at one point, “Everyone’s strange if you look at them long enough.” But O’Connor also gives us a compelling character who is fierce, independent, intense, intelligent and passionate. O’Connor’s script makes this distant Victorian figure the most compelling character I’ve seen onscreen this year. As a director, O’Connor’s choices reflect a boldness that’s remarkable for a first feature **** the title role, Emma Mackey (TV’s “Sex Education”) dominates the screen. Mackey compellingly conveys Brontё’s anguish as she chafes while relegated to the roles demanded by society. You feel the fierceness of her loyalty to her siblings and her protectiveness of family, particularly of her dissolute brother, Branwell. You share her admiration and her confusion as Emily watches her sister Charlotte move out into the world, take on teaching positions and carve out a place for herself in a culture that Emily finds unbearable. Most of all, you observe the depth of her passion and the breadth of her **** film is an ode to individuality in a world that, then and now, cherishes convention and conformity. Today, social media has bred a generation desperate to be seen, noticed and liked. O’Connor slyly offers an antidote in the form of a role model/protagonist who is completely indifferent to public opinion. This Brontё sister will haunt me for some time to come. “Emily” is one of the best films of the year.

The Creed series centers on Adonis Creed, the son of Apollo Creed (Carl Weathers), the antagonist/friend of Rocky (Sylvester Stallone) in the original series. In the first two Creed films, Rocky mentors Adonis (Michael B. Jordan) as he begins his boxing career and, in a formulaic development, works to become world champion. Here, there’s no Rocky to be found. Consider that a benefit, because it allows this film to be considerably deeper, darker and more nuanced than anything that would have occurred with Stallone hanging **** a series of flashbacks, we’re introduced to a fifteen-year-old Adonis who gets into a fight with a man who beat him while he was a young boy in foster care. During the altercation, Adonis’ friend Damian (Jonathan Majors) pulls a gun. Damian gets arrested and goes to prison for eighteen years. Adonis flees the scene and the consequences of his actions. After getting out of prison, Damian reconnects with Adonis. By this time, Adonis has retired from boxing. He’s ensconced in a gorgeous house in the Hollywood Hills with an equally gorgeous family. He runs the Delphi Boxing Academy and has the leverage to be a high-level boxing promoter. He’s a man with everything to lose. Soon enough, it’s apparent that Damian has returned to take from Adonis everything he believes was stolen from him when he was sent to prison. Damian goads Adonis into a match for the world championship. The obligatory training montages ensue, but with a recognition that this has become a full-blown cliché. At one point, Adonis dons a harness and pulls an airplane, although it’s only a two-seat **** cast is excellent. Michael B. Jordan is his typical captivating self. Jonathan Majors is clearly having a moment. He has 18 acting credits since 2019 including “Lovecraft Country” and appearing in the latest regrettable Marvel fiasco. His Damian is simultaneously menacing, thuggish and vulnerable. Tessa Thompson (“Westworld,” “Sorry to Bother You”) is solid as Adonis’ wife, Briana, a pop star who is losing her hearing. Their daughter Amara, scene-stealing deaf actress Mila Davis-Kent in her feature film debut, offers an opportunity for Adonis to demonstrate his humanity. Scenes of the parents signing with Amara are actually quite touching.This film explores a lot of themes unassociated with sports movies in general and or with the previous movies in this series. Although it’s still a compelling boxing movie, “Creed III” is ultimately a story with other, broader intentions. Examining the adult relationship between Adonis and Damian, it explores issues around pain, loss and the nature of friendship. It addresses the gulf between the haves and have-nots through Adonis’ sense of obligation to his former friend and his awkward attempts to help. Along the way, it even suggests that there are approaches to masculinity other than brooding manliness, unbridled aggression and emotional distance.While the ending of the film is underwhelming, the story generally moves at a fast pace that makes its flaws easy to overlook. As a first-time director, Jordan shows a competence and confidence behind the camera that rival his magnetism in front of it. Overall, “Creed III” breathes new life into a franchise that had clearly lost some of its punch.

The first talking Barbie doll came on the market in 1992. Her utterances included: “I love shopping!” and “Math class is tough.” Needless to say, this “Barbie” movie has come a long way, baby.Finally making this film has involved a series of false starts over several years. (Amy Schumer and later Anne Hathaway were associated with the film in the mid-2010s.) Fortunately for us, Director/Writer Greta Gerwig (“Little Women,” “Lady Bird”) signed on and finally got this albatross airborne. At times, it **** One introduces us to Barbieland, a surreal world where everything is run by women, each an incarnation of the iconic doll. There’s President Barbie (Issa Rae) and Physicist Barbie (Emma Mackey), in addition to Supreme Court Justice, Diplomat, Author and Lawyer Barbies. There are also innumerable Kens, led by Beach Ken (Ryan Gosling). In Barbieland, Ken’s self-worth is totally dependent on getting Barbie’s attention. Early on, it’s all idyllic. But in the middle of a major dance number that would make musical theater proud, Stereotypical Barbie (Margot Robbie) suddenly blurts out, “Do you guys ever think about dying?” The next morning, she awakens, not to another endlessly perfect day, but to flat feet and cellulite. Weird Barbie (Kate McKinnon) informs Stereotypical Barbie that her existential issues have caused a disruption in the space-time continuum. To repair the space-time continuum and, incidentally, to truly find herself, Stereotypical Barbie must leave Barbieland and experience the real world.Barbie drives away from Barbieland (stowaway Beach Ken’s in the back seat). Magically, she eventually arrives in Venice Beach in the real world. Beach Ken adores this new world where he can be the center of attention. Eventually, Ken returns to Barbieland to remake that world in his image. Will Ken’s revolution succeed? Probably not. But this plot development does give us Gosling’s immortal line: “When I found out the patriarchy wasn’t about horses, I lost interest anyway.”Clearly, Director/Writer Gerwig has a lot on her mind. Surprisingly, she’s able to push things a lot further than I ever expected Warner Brothers or Mattel to permit. When we meet the Mattel Board of Directors, led by CEO Will Farrell, it’s composed exclusively of white men. There are regular allusions to Mattel’s misguided Barbie spin-offs. We confront the despair of a regular mom (America Ferrera) balancing the pressures of motherhood, a job and everything else. Turns out, life is not all song and dance, although we do get several major musical numbers (my personal favorite is Ryan Gosling crooning “I’m Just Ken”).Unfortunately, the content and pacing here are uneven. After a series of exhilarating scenes establishing the story’s premise, there’s a lot of conversation about patriarchy, a topic that’s visited and revisited and underlined, just to make sure we get the point. However, Act Three offers a big finish that makes it all worthwhile. Along the way, Gerwig subversively suggests that self-worth is a prerequisite for a solid relationship. She even proposes that, despite its regular disappointments, being human is ultimately **** “Barbie,” Gerwig swings for the fences and shoots for the stars (other clichés available on demand). Although she’s not always successful, there’s enough innovation, creativity and heart here to make it worth your time. But I’m still not wearing pink.

“All Quiet on the Western Front” is based on the 1929 novel by Erich Maria Remarque, who was a German foot soldier on the western front during World War I. (The “front” stretched from the west coast of Belgium through Germany’s western border with France down to the border of neutral Switzerland.) The book was the best-selling novel in the US in its year of publication and sold 1.5 million copies worldwide in its first eighteen months. In 1930, an American adaptation of the book won Best Picture at the third Academy Awards.Like the novel, this film traces the story of Paul Bäumer and his friends, who join the German war effort in 1917 in a fit of patriotic fervor. Almost immediately, the realities of life – and death – on the front expose the naïveté of the characters’ initial expectations. The major theme of this film is the futility of war. As the film concludes, story cards inform us that between 1913 and 1917, there were over two million casualties along the western front, even though the territorial lines moved less than 200 meters. In fact, “all quiet on the western front” is now a euphemism for stagnation.Cowriter/Director Edward Berger departs from the narrative of the novel by inserting a storyline about Matthias Erzberger, the German diplomat who negotiated (or acquiesced to) an armistice with the French. While these scenes offer stark contrast to the war footage (at one point, the French general worries that the croissants are not truly fresh), this subplot is a misguided distraction.Berger’s creative team is excellent. Cinematographer James Friend and Composer Volker Bertelmann deserve special mention. Friend’s graphic set pieces on the battlefield and his lingering shots of untouched natural scenery create an effectively eerie juxtaposition. His washed-out color palette ironically makes the horrors on the screen even more vivid. For his part, Bertelmann employs snare drums and a three-note motif using a harmonium to jolt the moviegoer and create a pervasive, bone-deep sense of dread.This film effectively communicates the realities of the western front and, more generally, WW I from a German perspective. Since “history is written by the victors,” the suffering on the German side has often gone unacknowledged. Early on, there are poignant scenes of German soldiers removing boots and clothing from the dead. The apparel is then transported back to German factories where it is washed, repaired and presented to recruits as “new” uniforms. The flaw here is that “All Quiet” is basically a series of memorable images. Unlike Sam Mendes’ film “1917,” there’s no powerful narrative to fully immerse us in the events that are unfolding. The only dramatic tension is whether the war will end before all the key characters die. One horror simply piles onto the next, frame after frame, day after day. And while some of these scenes are quite striking, (the imagery of advancing allied battle tanks and soldiers with flamethrowers looks truly terrifying from the other side), we come away shell-shocked but emotionally disengaged.

To use a metaphor from another sport, “Air” is a film that starts out with several strikes against it. Most people already know how this story ends. (The existence of Air Jordan basketball shoes hardly qualifies as a spoiler.) This is a sports film that includes no on-court action (except a brief video). In fact, there’s no action at all – it’s all people talking in offices and boardrooms. For this film to work, the audience also needs to root for Nike, not because it’s one of our **** corporate overlords but because it’s an inspiring, plucky little shoe company. And oh yeah, there’s no Michael Jordan in sight. Despite these obstacles, “Air” is the best sports movie to come along in a **** central character in this story is Sonny Vaccaro (a pudgy Matt Damon). It’s 1984. Vaccaro is a talent scout tasked with finding 2-3 college stars heading to the NBA who will sign shoe contracts with Nike. But Vaccaro wants to use Nike’s entire $250,000 basketball budget to sign Michael Jordan. There are problems. Jordan isn’t yet famous. He doesn’t wear Nike shoes. Vaccaro makes an end run around Jordan’s agent David Falk (an excellent, scenery-chewing Chris Messina) and appeals directly to the boss, Jordan’s mother **** Deloris, Viola Davis is transcendent. She reportedly improvised the key line of the film. Underlining her belief in her son when completing negotiations with Vaccaro, Deloris says, “A shoe is just a shoe, until my son steps into it.” When Actor/Director Ben Affleck met with Michael Jordan to secure his permission to make the film, his primary demand was that Viola Davis play his mother. Jordan should probably receive some sort of credit for this inspired casting choice.This movie is important because it chronicles a moment in sports history that revolutionized the relationship between athletes and corporate sponsors. Before Jordan’s contract, athletes were always paid a flat fee for their endorsement. If their shoe sold well, the company got all the profits. The Jordan family negotiated a contract that gives them a percentage of sales for all Air Jordans ever sold. Nike hoped Jordan’s brand would have $3 million in shoe sales over the first three years. It sold $130 million the first year. Currently, business analysts estimate that Jordan makes about 5% of sales for Nike’s Jordan line. In 2022, sales topped $5.1 **** should also see this film because it’s a great cast having a fabulous time. As an actor, Affleck effectively channels the Buddhist capitalism of Nike CEO Phil Knight. Jason Bateman, as the company’s marketing executive, adds irony, humor and humanity. Damon’s portrayal of Vaccaro adds additional heft.This is a film that succeeds in surprising ways. It’s funny, touching and generates a startling amount of dramatic tension. It’s a very entertaining two hours.

“A Thousand and One” is the feature debut for Writer/Director A.V. Rockwell. It’s a powerful story **** opening scene reveals Inez (actor Teyana Taylor, perhaps better known as a singer, dancer and choreographer) at Rikers Island. After her release, she reunites with her son Terry. It’s 1994. He’s six years old. She is twenty-two. Eventually, Inez decides to abduct him from a foster care system that treats him with indifference. She finds a job and begins to create a life for the two of **** texture and tone, this film has a lot of similarities to 2016 Oscar-winner “Moonlight.” We see Inez and Terry navigate Terry’s childhood, his burgeoning adolescence in 2001 and then four years later when Terry is seventeen and beginning to make some adult choices about his future. Like “Moonlight,” this film uses three different actors for Terry, each of whom effectively conveys a quiet and perpetually wary figure, constantly fearful that the tenuous life Inez has created for them will disappear. The through lines for all this are the powerful connection between Inez and Terry, two damaged people who desperately need each other, and Inez’s profound desire to give Terry a better life than she’s had. It’s Teyana Taylor’s intense, charismatic presence on the screen that holds this project together. She is fierce, loyal, combative, intense and “spicy” (her own word). Most of all, she demands independence while simultaneously recognizing that she must rely on others when everything is falling apart. It’s a riveting character study and a powerful meditation on independence and interdependence.Perhaps because of Writer/Director Rockwell’s extensive experience creating short films, “A Thousand and One” sometimes feels like a series of stand-alone observations. While the story has a comforting, slow-moving pace, it strays occasionally from the central narrative. Born and raised in Queens, Rockwell reflects a fondness for New York City that only a native can have. While focusing on the primary characters, she also takes time to note how Harlem changes as these characters move through an eleven-year period, particularly the impact on the social fabric of Rudy Giuliani’s “stop and frisk” policy and the gentrification that took place throughout the city when Michael Bloomberg was **** me, a plot twist in Act Three threatens to undermine this entire enterprise. It’s a development with no foreshadowing made all the more regrettable because it’s completely unnecessary and because it calls into question the motivation behind much of the action in the first two-thirds of this promising film.I’m excited to see what A.V. Rockwell does next. Her storytelling and her assured visual style promise great things. Hopefully, “A Thousand And One” will convince her that she has powerful stories to tell, stories that don’t need distracting plot twists to keep moviegoers’ full attention.

Many reviewers have compared “Bottoms” to 1989’s “Heathers.” When assessing that film, critic Roger Ebert described himself as a “traveler in an unknown country.” I have a similar sense of unease about whether I’m qualified to review “Bottoms.” I’m not female. I’m not gay. I haven’t been in a high school classroom in over 50 years. Anyway, PJ (Rachel Sennott – “Shiva Baby”) and Josie (Ayo Edebiri – “Theater Camp,” TV’s “The Bear”) are lesbian best friends on the lowest rung of their high school pecking order. They are social outcasts not because they’re gay but, in their words, just “ugly and untalented.” This doesn’t deter them from wanting to fulfill the dream of every high school student: an intimate encounter with a hot cheerleader. For no obvious reason, they believe starting a fight club – sorry, women’s self-defense club – will help achieve their goal. Sennott, who co-wrote the film, and Director/Co-Writer Emma Seligman (“Shiva Baby”) use this platform to address a multitude of topics. They offer a parody of teen romance movies. They take on a lot of current issues – **** (“including the grey-area stuff”), bulimia, suicide, murder. They even have time to suggest that terrorism may not be the best strategy for creating sympathy for one’s cause. They sow a lot of chaos and anarchy. Along the way, this creative team shows an admirable level of fearlessness. It’s a film you really want to root for. Cinematographer Maria Rusche slyly uses a rich color palette and relies heavily on long tracking shots to create the glossy images we associate with teen romance films. It’s a shame she and Director Seligman didn’t spend more time with the set pieces (action sequences). “Bottoms” showcases a lot of new talent. Sennott and Edebiri show off their charisma and comic timing in noteworthy performances. Former NFL player Marshawn Lynch steals several scenes as the teacher/fight club sponsor whose interest in the fight club (and women’s issues generally) is totally dependent on the current status of his ongoing divorce. He’s the worst educator since Cameron Diaz’ “Bad Teacher.” As an unattainable cheerleader, Kaia Gerber shows that she’s a supermodel capable of a speaking role. It doesn’t hurt that her mom is Cindy Crawford. Unfortunately, the various parts here don’t add up to much, primarily because there’s no character development. The characters just lurch from one disconnected scene to the next. Unlike “Heathers,” where Act Three is an explicit morality play, the characters here don’t learn any big lessons, achieve any real insights or make any progress at all in their personal development. Like its egregiously poor fight scenes, “Bottoms” takes several big swings but fails to land any real punches. By the way, Hollywood, in your next “teen romance,” is it possible to throw in a few actors who aren’t pushing thirty?

“You Hurt My Feelings” is an inspired title. It effectively summarizes all the action that takes place in the course of this film, while simultaneously capturing what’s at stake here. Beth (Julia Louis-Dreyfus – “Veep,” “Seinfeld”) has been laboring to write a novel, a follow-up to her modestly well-received memoir. Her husband Don (Tobias Menzies – Prince Philip in “The Crown”) has read twenty drafts of the novel, offering vague encouragement following each reading. Beth overhears Don telling a friend that he really didn’t like his wife’s novel. Beth is distraught. What follows is a meditation on “little white lies.” Is superficial lying a necessary lubricant for human relationships, as some have proposed? Alternatively, are truly solid relationships built on an unfaltering honesty in which any form of untruth has no place? It’s an interesting question. Regrettably, even through the final scene of this film, Writer/Director Nicole Holofcener steadfastly refuses to take a position. “You Hurt My Feelings” includes several positive elements that make the film worth seeing. Holofcener’s script includes keenly-observed, rich female characters. (The males here are not so fortunate.) At times, the dialogue crackles with cleverness. And the cast is first-rate. Julia Louis-Dreyfus is multi-dimensional, compelling and appealing as a character who doesn’t rely on the self-absorbed snark she deployed constantly in “Veep.” Michaela Watkins, an alumna along with Louis-Dreyfus of Holofcener’s previous film “Enough Said,” is excellent as Sarah, Beth’s sister. Arian Moayed (“Succession,” “Inventing Anna”) is outstanding as Sarah’s husband, a tortured actor who is mesmerized by socks. Professional critics have adored this film, bestowing upon it the ultimate accolade of “grown-up movie,” presumably since “adult film” was already taken. This seems a fair assessment, since young adults will have little or no tolerance for its nothing-at-stake “action” and children will sleep through the proceedings. Overall, “You Hurt My Feelings” is a story about people who have the luxury to fixate on incidents, not real crises. They are New Yorkers who vacillate between oblivious self-absorption and an awareness of others that inevitably generates neurotic anxiety. In other words, for better or worse, you’re likely to feel as if you’ve been suddenly thrown into an old Woody Allen movie. If you want to see all of this done better, re-watch “Annie Hall.”

Writer/Director Celine Song has used her own life story to craft 2023’s best film so far. Nora is twelve years old and has a crush on her classmate Hae Song. Unfortunately for the burgeoning romance, Nora’s parents have decided to leave Seoul and immigrate to Canada. Twelve years later, Nora and Hae Song reconnect through the miracle of social media. Their relationship becomes a series of video calls where the sense of connection is palpable. Eventually though, Nora decides that they should stop talking for a while; she wants to focus on career opportunities in her new home town of New York City. Another twelve years later, Hae Song decides to vacation in New York City. It’s an opportunity for him to see a now-married Nora face-to-face for the first time in twenty-four years. It’s all sweet, sad and thoughtful. In the process, this film offers more observations about the human condition than any film in recent memory. Several elements make this film outstanding. The cast is pitch perfect. As the adult Nora, Greta Lee (“The Morning Show,” “Russian Doll,” Will Aronson’s musical “My Scary Girl”) is mesmerizing. She blends her well-honed comic timing with a sincerity and vulnerability that are irresistible. As Hae Song, Teo Yoo (“Leto,” “Decision to Leave”) is equally impressive. You can often read his emotions without a word having to be spoken. John Magaro (“The Big Short,” “First Cow”) has a smaller but still essential role as Nora’s husband, Arthur. In one of the best film scenes in recent memory, Nora and Hae Song are in a bar speaking in animated Korean while Arthur sits patiently, uncomfortably beside her. Clearly, this is a film that could have gone in a million different directions. Song deftly uses her story to explore a variety of themes – the nature of relationships, the immigrant experience, the necessary balance between work and relationships, the role of fate (and the Korean concept of “in-yun”). She does it all in an unhurried style that makes “Past Lives” feel similar to Richard Linklater’s “Before” trilogy. It’s my guess this film will be equally well-loved and critically regarded. What’s most surprising here is Song’s self-confidence as a first-time filmmaker, given that she has the additional responsibility of being true to her own story. Many of the story elements of “Past Lives” are autobiographical. Song emigrated from Korea to Canada at age 12. She, like Nora, is a playwright. She currently lives in New York City with a husband she met on a writer’s retreat, like her character. Realizing and respecting the power of her story, Song infuses this film with an unhurried pace that allows real emotions to develop and well-earned insights to come to the surface. Song has the self-confidence to highlight the power of words left unspoken. She uses her technique to convey the insurmountable gulf between two characters who, paradoxically, are standing two feet apart. Like many of the best films, “Past Lives” will serve as an incentive for self-reflection for many moviegoers. You’ll leave the theater pondering the arc of your own story and the crucial “what-ifs” that have affected your own journey. “Past Lives” is a powerful, evocative experience for any moviegoer with a beating heart.

Wes Anderson is back. And his latest offering may well be his most accessible and emotionally rewarding film to date. A lot of Anderson’s cinematic flourishes are back as well: a chapter structure (including an “optional intermission”), a focus on dysfunctional families, quirky costumes, elegantly symmetrical camera work and a washed-out color palette. It’s 1955. Five child scientists and their families have gathered in Asteroid City, somewhere in the desert of the American Southwest, for a convention of the Junior Star Gazers/Space Cadets, where they will receive awards for their recent inventions. When an alien arrives and steals the artifact that gave this town its name, everyone is placed in quarantine. This provides plenty of time for snappy dialogue and wry observations. The film opens with a severe-looking, black-and-white Bryan Cranston introducing a stage play to be performed on TV (think “Playhouse 90”). However, instead of showing a stage, props and backdrops, the performance is a conventional film. So we have a film within a play within a TV show. After that, things get complicated. As with most Anderson projects, A-list stars abound. In addition to Cranston, Tilda Swinton, Tom Hanks, Jeff Goldblum, Steve Carell, Adrien Brody, Margot Robbie, Jeffrey Wright, Liev Schreiber, Edward Norton, Hope Davis, Matt Dillon, Rupert Friend, Willem Dafoe and others have minor roles. Jason Schwartzman, as a warzone photographer who hasn’t had the courage to tell his four kids their mother has died, and Scarlett Johansson, as an alcoholic suicidal actress, do most of the heavy lifting. The dialogue in “Asteroid City” is as clever, sardonic and densely packed as the conversations in all the other good Anderson movies. But in his previous films, dialogue has often teetered on the edge of snarky condescension. Here, the observations are just as quick, but they contain a vulnerable honesty that make the characters appealingly human. For example, Tom Hanks (perhaps the emotional center of the film) gives son-in-law Jason Schwartzman the following heartfelt advice: “In my loneliness… I’ve learned… to give complete and unquestioning faith to the people I love.” In a different scene, when meeting Scarlett Johansson’s character, Jason Schwartzman explains, “I’m a widower, but don’t tell my kids.” Later, as Schwartzman breaks the news to his children, he consoles his son Woodrow by saying, “Let’s say she’s in heaven, which doesn’t exist for me, but you’re Episcopalian.” “Asteroid City” is laugh-out-loud funny, quirky and visually spectacular. It also may tug at a few heart strings you didn’t know you had.

Alexander Skarsgård is one of the more courageous actors working today. He’s been willing to portray unappealing characters and to take big risks with the roles he’s played. Recently, he’s been an abusive husband in TV’s “Big Little Lies,” an amoral tech CEO (I know, redundant, right?) on “Succession” and a Viking prince with anger management issues in the film “The Northman.” His role here may be his most challenging to date. In Writer/Director Brandon Cronenberg’s “Infinity Pool,” James (Skarsgård) and his wife are vacationing at La Tolqa, a fictional beachfront resort. After publishing a single, poorly-received book six years ago, James is seeking inspiration. The couple encounters Gabi (Mia Goth) and Alban, who invite them on a trip outside the compound, even though it’s strictly forbidden. Driving back drunk, James hits and kills a local resident. He’s arrested and taken by the police to a sober, concrete, Soviet-style police station where he’s presented with a choice. He can be executed for his capital crime. Or, for a hefty fee, he can be cloned and have his double die in his place. After that, the movie gets weird. As with his first film “Possessor,” Cronenberg demonstrates his skill as a provocateur. The opening visual, where the camera rotates 360 degrees, informs us early that what’s to come will be disorienting. People wear grotesque masks. They engage in orgies, although they’re more psychedelic than explicit. This is a film that’s disturbing, bewildering, upsetting and disgusting but also thought-provoking. What works here is the acting. Skarsgård shows his versatility as James (and one or two of his clones). After starring in this year’s “Pearl” and “X,” Mia Goth uses this project to solidify her status as the latest scream queen. She’s particularly skillful at compellingly portraying unhinged maniacs. What doesn’t occur is adequate development of the many themes Cronenberg addresses in the film. He clearly disdains the entitlement of rich Western travelers who inflict themselves on some of the world’s poorest but most beautiful countries. But his critique of privilege is neither as well-focused nor as insightful as what we’ve already seen in “Parasite,” “The Menu” or even “Glass Onion.” He swings and misses when given the opportunity to address the nature of humanness in the context of clones. Where he connects most powerfully is when he proposes that humans will sink to their worst instincts and impulses when placed in a world where their actions have no consequences. In 1996’s “Crash,” Writer/Director David Cronenberg, Brandon’s father, explored a subculture of people physically disfigured in car crashes. In “Infinity Pool,” Brandon Cronenberg is clearly interested in exploring a less obvious disfigurement: events that warp the psyche and damage if not obliterate the soul.

Gerard Butler’s an interesting guy. He studied law at the University of Glasgow, but was reportedly fired from his first law firm one week after getting his law license. After establishing himself as an actor, Butler created a production company (it’s now called G-Base Productions) which bankrolls all of his movies. The company’s first commercial success was “Olympus Has Fallen.” It was soon followed by “London Has Fallen” and “Angel Has Fallen.” The company has no known relationship with Life Alert. G-Base’s current offering is “Plane.” Like the movie’s title, the film is a stripped-down, bare bones action film. There are no elaborate set pieces. There’s no extraneous dialogue. The main character has no love interest. Turns out, it’s satisfyingly self-sufficient. Main character a pilot. Plane flies into storm. Plane loses power. Beverage service discontinued. Plane crash-lands in jungle. Good news: plane intact, passengers survive. Bad news: island overrun by ruthless rebel militia. Passengers captured. Pilot must rescue passengers. Entertainingly predictable action ensues. There’s absolutely nothing new here. The story centers on two main characters. Veteran Captain Brodie Torrance (Butler) is flying for a low-rent airline after being caught on video choking out an unruly passenger. He is square-jawed, stoic, but also prone to introspection, of course in a totally manly way. When trying to rescue the passengers, Brodie is led/helped by Louis Gaspare (Mike Colter – “Jessica Jones,” title role in “Luke Cage”). In a surprising development, Gaspare is not a mustache-twirling Frenchman, but a formidable-looking, manacled prisoner convicted of capital murder who once served in the French Foreign Legion. Mon dieu. Both actors are excellent. There’s something refreshing about a movie willing to just do simple things well. Here, the creative team is self-confident enough to tell a story without diversion, subterfuge or distracting subplots and to still believe their effort will satisfy the audience. In other words, welcome to the 1990s. Think of “Plane” as furthering the tradition of “Con Air” and “Air Force One.” That’s not to say the finished product is flawless. At one point, Brodie voluntarily goes to the captors and offers himself in place of the captured passengers. It’s a little too messianic. But perhaps this airline has created a frequent flyer program where loyalty works both ways. If you’re looking for two hours of pleasant diversion, this film is strongly recommended. It’s ideal for the moviegoer who found “Top Gun: Maverick” a little too complicated.

They would wake up sore, bruised and often bloodied. Women and girls ranging in age from 5 to 65 were rendered unconscious by a cattle anesthetic, then **** and sometimes beaten. Unmarried girls in this remote Mennonite community became pregnant. A young child required antibiotics for a sexually transmitted disease. A title card at the beginning of “Women Talking” indicates that “what follows is an act of female imagination.” While that may be true for the dramatization central to this story, the underlying facts are quite real. From 2005-2009, in a remote Mennonite community in Bolivia over 150 women and children were **** after being administered a cattle anesthetic. Eventually, 8 Mennonite males were convicted for these crimes, with each sentenced to 25 years in prison. They remain incarcerated today. In 2018, Miriam Toews, a Canadian Mennonite, wrote the book “Women Talking,” a fictionalized account of this story. She co-wrote the screenplay for this film with Director Sarah Polley (“Stories We Tell,” “Take This Waltz”). In this dramatization, there are no police or other outside authorities to rely on. In the primary action of the film, the women of the community convene to decide among themselves how they will respond to this continuous abuse. Should they do nothing? Stay and fight back? Leave? Because much of the film centers on, wait for it, women talking, this film fortunately features actors with the skill and charisma to hold the attention of the audience. Mariche (Jessie Buckley – TV’s “Fargo”) represents stoic fatalism. Salome (Claire Foy – early seasons of “The Crown”) represents rage and an unbridled zeal to protect her children going forward. Agata (Judith Ivey, a staple for years on TV and Broadway) offers the experienced perspective of an elder. Ona (Rooney Mara – “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo”) has the most nuanced role, reflecting a desire to overcome what has happened by developing the capacity for forgiveness. The only male in this ensemble cast is August (an outstanding Ben Whishaw – Q, in the latest Bond installments), who takes the minutes for this group conversation, a role made necessary because these cloistered women were never allowed to learn to read or write. While the dialogue often feels like a play and the film has the limitations of a chamber piece, Polley and Toews carefully raise enough interesting issues to keep the momentum from stalling. Because there’s so much emphasis on dialogue, Composer Hildur Guonadottir (“Taŕ”) provides an understated score that’s pitch perfect. And Cinematographer Luc Montpellier (TV’s “Counterpart”) uses a muted color palette to ensure viewers focus more on what they characters have to say, less on how they look. Because Director Polley wisely chose not to depict any of the assaults, this isn’t a film that’s hard to watch. It’s a film that feels urgent, important and disquieting. But Best Picture? Not so much.

In “The Whale,” actor Brendan Fraser (“Crash,” “The Mummy” series) is transformed by prosthetics into a character so morbidly obese that simply rising from a chair represents superhuman effort. Director Darren Aronofsky (“The Wrestler,” “Black Swan”) confronts us with this spectacle, then dares us to look away. Aronofsky also injects a few familiar elements into the proceedings – an anguished protagonist, surrealism and a general sense of melodrama. In this chamber piece, Charlie (Fraser) has congestive heart failure. He’s literally eating himself to death. In Idaho. He’s unable to leave his claustrophobic, poorly-lit apartment. He spends his time teaching online classes in creative writing and receiving caretaker visits from Liz (a fantastic Hong Chau – “The Watchmen TV series). Realizing that he is in his last days, Charlie makes a final effort to reconnect with his daughter Ellie (Sadie Sink – TV’s “Stranger Things”). As they story unfolds, the moviegoer learns that Charlie abandoned Ellie when she was eight because he fell in love with a male student. Unsurprisingly, Ellie has some anger and abandonment issues. One of the fascinating elements of this film is Charlie’s steadfast optimism. When Ellie’s mother describes her as evil, Charlie rises, metaphorically, to her defense. It’s an intended irony that Charlie is able to offer powerful grace and absolution (there are a fair number of theological themes here) to nearly everyone but himself. Throughout, “The Whale” feels much more like a play than a movie. It was originally a stage production, with playwright Samuel D. Hunter acting here as the screenwriter. Some of the “action,” dialogue and staging are never translated effectively to this different medium. It becomes a distraction when the actors sometimes seem restricted to broad movements and loud voices, mannerisms that don’t work well with Aronofsky’s camera inches from their faces. It’s hard to know how to react honestly to Fraser’s performance. It’s a long Hollywood tradition to respect, even revere, actors who go through dramatic physical transformations. Think Christian Bale in “The Fighter,” Charlize Theron in “Monster,” Joaquin Phoenix in “The Joker,” or most recently Glenn Close in “Hillbilly Elegy.” Here, Fraser does a wonderful job of showing the humanity and humor of a character who could easily be singularly unappealing. But I’m not sure it’s worth the Oscar buzz generated by many professional critics. Ultimately, “The Whale” is a study in inconsistency. Its paradoxes can be summed up by one of the key scenes where Charlie earnestly applauds and encourages the members of his online class who have made the effort to reveal themselves by expressing their own hard-earned truths. It’s ironic that this exhortation comes from a character whose enormous bulk is clearly used to keep everyone away.

In his previous work, Writer/Director Damien Chazelle has demonstrated his skill at creating an homage to Hollywood (“La La Land”) and his capacity for compelling character studies (“Whiplash”). “Babylon” offers both. The story, which opens in 1926, chronicles the lives of Jack Conrad (Brad Pitt), a matinee idol during the silent movie era; Nellie LaRoy (Margot Robbie), a hedonistic wannabe who raises herself to **** by a combination of self-belief and good fortune; and Manny Torres (a star-making role for Diego Calva), an immigrant entranced by the movies who just wants to be part of the show. Elinor St. John (Jean Smart), a British gossip columnist, occasionally delivers observations from above the fray. “Babylon” is a show in three acts, each with a radically different tone. In Act One, we experience the orgiastic exuberance of an industry where too much is never enough. This section of the film includes jaw-dropping set pieces. The opening scene includes writhing partygoers and features an elephant. The most mesmerizing scene is a panoramic shot where multiple silent movies are being shot at once. Hundreds of extras are participating in a medieval battle while, on the other side of a plywood wall, an intimate bar scene is being filmed. Act Two shows the industry’s gradual transition to talkies and the sometimes painful adjustments required, for the actors and the crew, to make it happen. Act Three is a sobering meditation on what happens to those who have lived in the spotlight when the spotlight moves away. In “Babylon,” Chazelle seems to be responding to the criticism that his “La La Land” showed unwavering reverence for Hollywood while offering little in the way of critique. Here, he overcorrects, suggesting that the magic of Hollywood is built on a foundation of exploitation, callous insensitivity and even intentional cruelty. Chazelle seems to want to have it both ways: deifying the process of moviemaking while documenting the rot on which it is built. Through Pitt’s character, Chazelle even questions whether it’s all worthwhile. Needless to say, it all creates a very uneven tone. Overall, this film is worth your time, even though it runs for over three hours. The set pieces, the frantic energy and the visual spectacle are just that good. However, it’s certainly not a perfect film. There are at least three “endings” to the film, each more over-the-top and unnecessary than the last. And Robbie is saddled with the cliché-riddled role of working-class actor whose speaking style doesn’t translate for the talkies. I felt like I had fallen down a rabbit hole and ended up on the set of “My Fair Lady.” Come for the spectacle. Stay for the ambivalence.

Writers Seth Reiss and Will Tracy are both alums of “The Onion.” In a completely unpredictable development, they’ve written a satire. Well, it’s also part horror flick, part thriller. Overall, it’s an interesting offering. In the Pacific Northwest, eleven guests take a boat to Hawthorne, an upscale restaurant that inhabits its own island. The group goes there to experience a tasting menu prepared by Chef Slowik (Ralph Fiennes) and his staff. They pay $1250 per person for the opportunity. An enraptured foodie and his date attend. Other guests include three tech bros, a jaded uber-rich couple, a C list actor and his assistant, a food critic and her sycophant/editor. Before each course, Chef claps his hands for attention and offers an introduction. The first course is “The Island,” a single scallop perched atop a rock, garnished with flowers from the island. The bread course includes dipping sauces with no actual bread and is entitled “Unaccompanied Accompaniments.” So it goes. But with each course, the tone becomes more foreboding. Eventually, the comedy turns very dark indeed. Tracy, Reiss and Director Mark Mylod (“Succession,” “Game of Thrones,” “Shameless”) obviously use this opportunity to skewer a foodie culture that seems to quickly and randomly elevate cooks/chefs to celebrity status. They also filet the rich (a topic thoroughly covered recently by “Glass Onion,” “Triangle of Sadness” and “Bodies, Bodies, Bodies”). However, “The Menu” does offer a new theme, implying that artistic excellence is inevitably followed by commercialization. They suggest that many art forms (Broadway, anyone?) engage in ever-escalating pricing, making it inevitable that art is consumed only by the wealthy, not necessarily the most knowledgeable or the most appreciative. In one telling scene, Chef Slowik engages the rich couple, who have attended eleven previous tastings. When confronted, the husband is unable to identify a single item he’s eaten during previous visits. Pearls before swine. The acting here is superb, and makes “The Menu” worth consuming. Tyler the foodie (in a scene-stealing performance by Nicholas Hoult) and Margot (Anya Taylor-Joy) are by far the most interesting characters. In Hulu’s “The Great,” Hoult mastered the role of blustering idiot. Here, he takes it to new heights. But it’s Taylor-Joy who fully captures our attention. With a “too cool for school” vibe, she sees through all the pretension and is the only character who’s fully able to master the situation. Tyler, Margot and the other guests provide a perfect foil for Fiennes, whose has previously demonstrated his consummate skill at portraying a raving maniac hiding beneath a veneer of placid professionalism (see “Grand Budapest Hotel,” “Coriolanus”). Overall, this may be the best ensemble cast of the year. Despite these delectable performances, there’s something unfulfilling about “The Menu.” It incorporates a lot of ideas, but doesn’t develop any of them fully. Rather than integrating the action to develop a satisfying overarching theme, the film feels like a series of unrelated SNL sketches. Despite the elegance of its presentation, “The Menu” leaves us hungry for something more substantial, like a really juicy cheeseburger.

Let’s be fair: If any filmmaker has earned the right to make an autobiography, it’s Steven Spielberg. Over the years, he’s given us films that were touchstones for two generations. So we owe him this self-indulgence. What Spielberg and Co-Writer Tony Kushner (“Angels in America”) have created is puzzling. From my perspective, the film is in three acts of widely varying lengths and equally diverse intentions. The first 75% of this film traces Spielberg’s development from his first movie experience, seeing DeMille’s “The Greatest Show on Earth,” through his adolescent movie-making. It’s ironic that the re-creation of Spielberg’s early movie-making is actually pretty dull, offering little insight into his cinematic sensibilities. During this time, the fissures in his parents’ relationship - and the ripple effects throughout the family – become apparent. When it’s not being depressing or sad, this section of the film is remote and emotionally distant, apparently because of Spielberg’s tortured attempt not to take one parent’s side in the conflict. Act Two explores Spielberg’s move to Northern California and his experiences in a high school which was apparently heavily populated by very tall Aryan males. We discover that his first girlfriend is a devout Christian (her wall is a shrine dedicated equally to Jesus, Fabian and Bobby Rydell) who hopes to save his soul. She also has apparent difficulty conflating religious fervor and sexual arousal. This section of the film is just as impressionistic as Act One, but the colors are brighter and the tone is light, if not frivolous. Act Three lasts only a few minutes. In torment, Spielberg’s character has decided to drop out of college to pursue his dream. Along the way, he’s given a five-minute audience with Director John Ford, who offers weighty utterances about cinematic technique through vast clouds of cigar smoke. This causes our protagonist to stride happily, optimistically into the sunset for no apparent reason. Along the way, Spielberg and Kushner offer some alternative theories about Spielberg’s passion for filmmaking. For Spielberg, is filmmaking a way to control and make meaning of the chaos around him? Possibly. Could making movies be a buffer and an escape from family tension as his parents’ marriage disintegrates? Maybe. Could making films offer an antidote for personal loneliness? Could be. Was moviemaking simply a way for Spielberg to find his place in the confusing social landscape of childhood and adolescence? Kinda. Does he enjoy playing God, deciding the winners and losers in his narratives? Perhaps. The most frustrating element of this film is that Spielberg seems more perplexed about the events around him and his own motivations than he has ever been when filming his iconic characters. But then, maybe that’s the way it is with humans. When we’re the subject of the conversation, it always messier. At the end of the day, life is apparently just as confusing for Spielberg as it is for the rest of us.

It’s been sixteen years since Writer/Director Todd Field’s last film. Clearly, he has had a lot on his mind and he’s spent years bringing those ideas to full maturity. We’re introduced to Lydia Tár (Cate Blanchett) through an onstage interview with Adam Gopnik of “The New Yorker” (playing himself). It’s clear that Tár has reached the summit of her profession. She’s the first female conductor **** orchestra, the Berlin Philharmonic. She’s won Emmy, Grammy, Oscar and Tony awards. Her soon-to-be-released autobiography, “Tár on Tár,” is eagerly anticipated. She’s become accustomed to a world filled with private jets and personal assistants. Early on, it’s apparent this film will chronicle Tár’s fall from these heights. In her own words, Lydia is a “U-Haul lesbian.” She lives with Sharon (Nina Hoss), the first violinist with the Philharmonic and their daughter Petra. Tár is preparing to conduct a live recording of Mahler’s Fifth Symphony (she’s already recorded the other eight). During her sleepless nights, Lydia hears strange noises. She discovers totemic items around her home. She receives a copy of Vita Sackville-West’s book “Challenge” from a former student, a gift she finds so upsetting that she tears it up and throws it into the trash in an airplane lavatory. Olga, a young Russian cellist (played convincingly by actor and professional cellist Sophie Kauer) catches her eye. The score and the pacing of this film convey an inescapable sense of dread. To Field’s credit, it’s unclear whether we are to bear witness that Tár will be unfairly brought down by others, whether she’s preparing to self-immolate or whether her impending doom will be richly deserved. The casting here is excellent. In the title role, Blanchett is a force of nature. In fact, she’s so compelling that it’s difficult to imagine another actor, even one of similar stature, equally capable of fully inhabiting this role. Nina Hoss communicates a sympathetic world-weariness. Kauer attacks her role with the same ferocity she shows when soloing on cello in a key scene. Two factors make this film memorable. First, it’s extremely dense. In Field’s narrative, there are feints, misdirection and obscure references that I could not absorb fully during a single viewing. To the film’s credit, I’m tempted to go see it again. Second, Field is scrupulous in his detachment from the primary subject. Most movies are filmed in a way that creates sympathy and support for the primary character. Some films go against type by creating an anti-hero. “Tár” is distinctive, perhaps unique, in the consistency of its dispassion. There’s no idolatry when chronicling Lydia’s professional accomplishments (Blanchett is utterly compelling as a genius easily lost in her work). And when things begin to deteriorate, Field never considers looking away or summoning unearned compassion. Even with its obscure references and emotional distance, “Tár” is an experience that’s gotten under my skin. Field’s film suggests that, as humans, we are always at war with ourselves: creativity straining against self-absorption, a sense of humanity warring with the belief that relationships are measured only by their return on investment.

Jordan Peele is clearly a gifted filmmaker. It’s also possible that he’s too smart for his own good. His latest offering, “Nope,” decisively answers the rhetorical question: “Are all of Jordan Peele’s films interesting and accessible?” A taciturn OJ Haywood (Daniel Kaluuya) works for his dad at Haywood’s Hollywood Horses, which wrangles horses for the entertainment industry. After his father is mysteriously killed by falling metal debris, OJ becomes responsible for keeping the business and the family ranch afloat. His sister, Emerald (Keke Palmer), helps out, sorta. But there’s something very wrong here. A cloud has been sitting on the horizon for days. Could it be hiding a space alien from view? Yup. But good news: by capturing film footage of the alien, maybe the Haywards can make a lot of money and save the farm. In writing this screenplay, Writer/Producer/Director Peele creates more story lines than he knows what to do with. The film opens with a quote from the Old Testament prophet Nahum: “I will cast abominable filth upon you, make you vile, and make you a spectacle.” So perhaps this film is an allegory about the oversized role of spectacle in modern culture? Sorta. Peele tells us a couple of times that OJ and Emerald are the descendants of the black jockey who appeared in 1878’s “The Horse in Motion,” arguably the progenitor of the modern motion picture. And there’s a poster for “Buck and the Preacher,” Sidney Poitier’s directorial debut, that appears in more than one scene. Maybe this film is about the marginalization of black contributions to film-making? Kinda. There’s a storyline about Jupe (Steven Yeun), who’s scratching to make a living managing a misbegotten cowboy theme park. As a child, Jupe starred in “Gordy’s Home,” an infamously short-lived sitcom where a chimpanzee ran amuck and attacked almost everyone on the set. Huh? Peele fully develops exactly none of these ideas or any of the other thematic elements floating around. As a result, “Nope” comes across as a series of poorly developed impressions culminating in an unsatisfyingly ambiguous climax. There are many elements of this film worthy of praise. Kaluuya, Palmer, Yeun and gravel-voiced Michael Wincott, who plays a famous cinematographer with plans to get definitive footage of the alien, are all first-rate. Visually, the film is often spectacular because of the work of Cinematographer Hoyte Van Hoytema (“Tenet,” “Interstellar,” “Dunkirk”). In my view, “Nope” is a smart, creative filmmaker just showing off. Here, he never chooses to fully pursue any of the themes he develops. But isn’t a key element of filmmaking the act of telling a coherent story or at least fully articulating a personal point of view? According to Jordan Peele, nope.

Aubrey Plaza has come a long way from her deadpan comedic role as April Ludgate, an apathetic student intern on “Parks and Recreation.” Here, she takes on the title role and delivers a performance more powerful than anything she’s done before. Emily is an art school dropout with $70,000 in student loan debt. She is trying to make her way in an unforgiving Los Angeles by working for a food delivery service and sharing a cramped apartment. A co-worker hooks her up with a different money-making opportunity: making $200 for buying a big screen TV using a stolen credit card number. For Emily, the money is irresistible. The team of fraudsters is led by Yousef, who becomes a teacher, protector and guide into black market capitalism. Eventually, under the tutelage of Yousef (an excellent Theo Rossi – “Sons of Anarchy,” “Luke Cage”), she sets up her own black market business as her life becomes further entangled with his. “Emily the Criminal” is Writer/Director John Patton Ford’s feature debut. It’s a very promising start. While sticking close to the core tenets of film noir, particularly the profound cynicism, Ford also pushes the genre a bit. While classic film noir relies exclusively on dark colors and shadows, Ford’s jarring use of blindingly bright light in some daytime scenes is an interesting departure. His filming technique owes a lot to the Safdie brothers, with its constant use of extreme close-ups and quick cuts to build tension and heighten a sense of immediacy. In Ford’s script, the character of Emily serves as a stand-in for her entire generation, as she copes with crushing student debt and limited financial options available for the undereducated. Ford effectively develops a few additional themes. Without belaboring the point, his film depicts how the current system benefits the few, not the many. In one particularly powerful scene, an ad agency boss (Gina Gershon) browbeats Emily, finding it incomprehensible that Emily is not eternally grateful for the opportunity to work for several months as an unpaid intern. Ford also makes a larger point about immigrants trying to find their own paths to success while navigating the complexities of a society that’s hardly welcoming. At one point, Emily tells us that her biggest mistake when confronting injustice has been that she didn’t go far enough. So she gets bolder as she goes along. By the time another criminal says to her, “You’re a very bad influence,” she’s earned it. Ultimately Emily is a fascinating character study delineating how far rage and self-belief can take you. “Emily the Criminal” is a thought-provoking crime story. When we root for Emily, we’re urging on an anti-hero who, like the central character in the 1976 film “Network,” is mad as hell and not going to take it anymore. Emily’s clearly not a role model, but by the end we hope she wins anyway.

BJ Novak is best known for his role as Ryan Howard, a character in the US version of “The Office.” After “Vengeance,” he may well become better known as a writer and director. Novak also stars in this film as Ben Manalowitz, a writer and podcaster in New York City. Following a series of opening scenes that establish his self-regard, Ben receives a call that Abilene, a casual hookup, has died. Her family is under the misperception that Ben is the love of her life. Ben attends her funeral in West Texas and decides to explore the story behind her death while also crafting a podcast based on the characters (and they really are characters) he meets along the way. Ben also deludes himself into thinking this is a chance to offer his own profound pronouncements about the general state of America. Clearly, Novak’s script has a lot of balls in the air. He serves up a murder mystery. He explores the quirks and kindness of Abilene’s family, a clan that turns out to be utterly appealing. It makes a few observations about the wider world. The script does all this with a lot of heart and several plot twists and jokes at Ben’s expense. Most of all, Novak skewers the condescension regularly aimed at the Red States, while demonstrating that Texas does offer plenty of quirky comic material. FYI, Abilene’s sisters are named Paris and Kansas City. “Unique” names, by the way, are a rich tradition in the Lone Star State. In the late 1800’s, James Stephen Hogg (later to become governor) named his only daughter Ima. The story, widely reported, that Ima had a sister named Ura is apocryphal. “Vengeance” benefits from a stellar supporting cast that includes Issa Rae (“Insecure”) as Ben’s podcast boss, Boyd Holbrook (“Narcos”) as Abilene’s grieving brother, J. Smith-Cameron (“Succession”) as Abilene’s mother and a strong performance by Ashton Kutcher as the owner of a small town recording studio who seems to be equal parts kind, self-aware and predatory. Not everything works here. The murder “mystery” is ultimately pretty mundane. But the dialogue crackles and there are several laugh-out-loud moments. A sampling: “This is El Stupido. It’s okay, Ben. He doesn’t speak Spanish.” “’Y’all’ is a cultural appropriation.” “In my life, everything starts with a regret… It’s all regrets. Make ‘em count.” It’s all buoyed by a pervasive tone of appreciation for others and self-deprecation that redeem the movie’s venial sins. In a world that’s overstocked with condescension and people who see life as a series of chances to puff up their self-worth on social media, this film is a compelling antidote. In this case, “Vengeance” is just, merciful and very, very funny.